Out of the Fire, into the Frying Pan
by GenderbentUnicorn
Summary: After escaping 8 years of imprisonment by Ivan, Gilbert is certain things can only get better, but when his friends just won't stop asking questions and the only two people he's ever loved are getting married, how the hell is he supposed to cope? AU AxHxP
1. Chapter 1: Home

**A/N: Hey! This is my first time uploading fanfiction here, so please don't be too cruel if you decide to review it XD Anyway, this fanfiction will be Frying Pangle-centric, but with lots of other characters and pairings, I've listed all my Hetalia ships on my profile page.**

**Warnings: Swearing; polyamorous relationship; male and female homosexuality(that shouldn't even be a warning, but someone's bound to complain otherwise ^^'); incest; mentions of rape/sexual abuse; alcohol use etc.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, none of the Hetalia characters belong to me :( **

Antonio stared outside through the pouring rain and then back at his watch. 17:11. He frowned and went back to trying to get a clear view of the world outside of his house.

Gilbert was seriously late, the lunchtime he had planned to catch up with his old friend had passed and at three o'clock he had gloomily eaten by himself. On any other day he would have eaten with Francis or Lovino, but Lovino was spending the day convincing his brother not to move in with Ludwig and Francis was far too hung over to do anything, but that was hardly anything new…

Lost in his thoughts, Antonio failed to notice exactly what he'd been searching for until a flash of red caught his eye right by the window. Startled, he ran to the door and for the first time that whole day he actually began to feel nervous, he hadn't seen Gilbert for years, eight in fact, holy shit, had it been that long already?

He began to imagine in his head what Gilbert might look like now, had he changed his hair from that blinding white he had always been teased about in school? Or maybe he wore glasses now, that would be a laugh! Or maybe he had even gotten fat! As the doorbell rang, Antonio cursed his thoughts for once again going off on a tangent and fiddled with the dodgy lock on the door and opened it to reveal his old friend.

But for all the many things that Antonio could have imagined had happened to Gilbert, he could never quite have comprehended that Gilbert would look exactly the fucking same. Sure, his hair was sopping wet(why the hell hadn't he brought an umbrella?) and there was something missing in his eyes but other than that he looked like the rough teenage boy who thought himself too awesome for words, with that ridiculous bird still perched on his unruly white hair.

Gilbert looked up at him – whoa, Antonio had forgotten how _red_ those eyes were – and grinned, "Yo".

Antonio couldn't help himself, he grinned back, "Yo, welcome home man." And he stood back to let Gilbert in.

It was only now that Antonio realised Gilbert didn't have any luggage. Well, he had a small backpack slung over his shoulder, but surely he had more belongings than that? Back in secondary school, Gilbert had loved to collect stuff, apparently to make his room look sufficiently awesome. Antonio could also recall that Gilbert rarely bought these things, stealing had been a favourite game for he, Francis and Gilbert, not that he was proud of doing so now.

"Ain'tcha got any luggage?" he asked.

Gilbert pulled the bag off his shoulder and lifted it up, "I got this"

"Nothin' else?"

"Nah, just this"

Antonio shrugged and strolled into the kitchen, "You hungry?" He shouted through to Gilbert. Gilbert strolled in after him, "Sure, what are you planning to cook?"

"Pasta or something?"

Gilbert raised an eyebrow, "Pasta?"

"Yeah, I eat a lot of it now, 'cause Lovi and his brother really like it"

Another grin spread across Gilbert's face, but there was something missing from it, it was something that had happened during their last couple of years at school too, but Antonio chose not to dwell on it now and instead focus on answering Gilbert's teasing question, "And who's Lovi?"

He was just opening his mouth to respond when Gilbert interrupted, "Scrap that last question, how _old_ is Lovi?"

Antonio laughed as he poured boiling water into the pan, "You know me far too well. He's actually twenty-two; I'm quite impressed with myself." He'd gotten into quite a bit of trouble at school because he was accused of getting a little too close to the younger students.

Gilbert just nodded at that, but he looked uncomfortable, his arms were drawn across his chest and he was slouched over, the cockiness from his youth seemed to have faded. Maybe he'd changed more than Antonio had originally believed.

There was silence for a couple of minutes before Gilbert blurted, "Isn't Francis living with you?"

"Yeah, but he went out drinking with some friends last night, and I think it got pretty insane, he's not feeling so good. I could try and drag him outta his slumber if ya want."

"It's cool, you finish cooking, I'll get him. Where's his room?"

"It's downstairs, across the hallway, you can tell which it is 'cause of the weird posters on his door."

Antonio watched his friend go and frowned, he wanted to ask him what was wrong, because it was obvious from his attitude and Ludwig's letter that everything was certainly not right. But Ludwig had also insisted that he not ask Gilbert too many questions. He had rang Ludwig after that to ask what was up, but from his vague answers he wondered whether Ludwig even knew what was up with his brother.

Eventually, when they were all sat round the table, Francis complaining about how he had been woken by having Gilbird repeatedly peck his eye, Antonio decided he may as well try to get _something_ out of him.

"So, where ya been all this time? You just left without saying a word, it's like ya just disappeared off the face of the planet."

Gilbert looked down, "I was…with someone for a long time, too long." He paused briefly. "I felt like it was time to move on."

Francis laughed, "Too long indeed! Imagine only sleeping with _one_ person for eight years?"

Gillbert looked increasingly as if he didn't want to be there. Antonio frowned again, his answer had sounded practised and it hadn't been entirely helpful, but Gilbert didn't seem like he wanted to talk about it right now. He decided to change the subject, maybe he would manage to wheedle something out of him by talking generally.

"Anyway, Lovino might be coming round tonight or tomorrow, he seems to have a thing against Germans but ya never know, he might like you."

"Pffft. Probably, I'm freaking awesome."

Francis grinned, "That is the first time I 'ave 'eard you say 'awesome' since I woke up. It's good to know you 'aven't changed!"

A smile broke out on Gilbert's face, "Neither have you! I dread to think how many people you've fucked since I last saw you."

"Ah, I 'ave lost count, whilst Antonio 'as actually managed to find 'imself a stable boyfriend…and a very unpleasant one at that," He added quietly.

"Hey! He's not unpleasant, he's just…shy!"

"'e is not shy!"

Gilbert suddenly stood up, Francis and Antonio quit their pointless argument to look at him, "I, uh, I'm going to bed, early night. I'll see you guys in the morning." And with that he walked out of the room.

Francis waited until he was sure Gilbert was out of earshot before he turned back to Antonio, "What ze 'ell 'appened to 'im?"

"I dunno, but he doesn't seem himself at all."

"You can say zat again! And when I tried to 'ug 'im, 'e completely freaked out."

"And he's so skinny, he looks like he hasn't eaten in _months_."

"And he didn't ask for a beer even onc-" Francis stopped midsentence,

realising Gilbert had returned to the doorway, he looked angry, "Oh no!" Gilbert said, "Don't let me interrupt you! Carry on listing every fucking thing that's wrong with me, carry on talking about just how _fucking_ imperfect I am!"

A dead silence fell over the room, broken only by Gilbert's ragged breathing. After what seemed like forever, Antonio spoke up, "Gil, you know we didn't mean that, we're just worried about you."

"Well don't be." He shot back "I'm fine, okay?" He stormed back upstairs. Francis and Antonio glanced at each other, then ate the rest of their dinner in silence.

Gilbert glanced around his new room; it was pretty big and was dominated by a double bed with a plain quilt lying on top of it. He slumped down on the bed and closed his eyes. He'd lashed out, already. He couldn't believe himself, they had been kind enough to take him in…but who were they to say things about him behind his back?

He lay there for a few minutes before getting up to look at himself in the mirror on the wall, he hadn't really registered how skinny he was, but now that he thought about it, the skin on his face seemed to be clinging to his bones and the first proper meal he'd eaten in years was the one that Ludwig had cooked him when he'd stumbled over his doorway the week before. It had been raining on that day too; it was English springtime after all…

_Ivan had been gone for about an hour, Gilbert prayed that he'd be gone for at least one more to give him time, not that he would even notice Gilbert was missing straight away anyway, ever since he'd started the therapy sessions he'd been neglecting him completely. Gilbert was thankful, it was far better than what he had had to endure before at any cost._

_He reached a shaking hand out to his door and pulled. It wasn't locked. Thank God. Quietly as he could, he crept downstairs, no one else was in the house but it seemed almost as if the walls were suspicious of him, that they knew what he was about to do. He went into the kitchen and lifted the vase of sunflowers that sat by the sink, there was a key to the front door there, he knew, he had tried to use it before, very early on when he still had the strength to try to escape. Ivan had never moved the key, he had had other methods of keeping Gilbert from escaping, he seemed to have found it amusing watching him try and fail._

_Eventually he dragged himself to the front door and shakily put the key in the lock, he wasn't even sure why there was such a lock on the inside, the Russian bastard was fucked up though, nothing in his house was particularly normal. Opening the door seemed strange, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to go outside and he almost felt too scared to leave, he turned back to the house. Would he miss it? Never. He spat on the floor and stormed outside, allowing the door to slam behind him._

_At once it started raining, a drop landed on Gilbert's nose, it felt cool, refreshing. When was the last time he had even felt the rain on his skin? It felt like a lifetime ago. And right now, it felt like heaven. He laughed, actually laughed, it sounded so strange and his voice was hoarse from its recent lack of use. He would have stayed right there for hours, would have just lay down and let the rain wash away all of the dirt, all of the memories, if he had not wanted to get away so desperately, so he ploughed on, he knew where to go, to his old home, maybe his Father and Brother still lived there, maybe they'd still remember who he was._

_He couldn't believe he could recall the way; it had been the day before his long imprisonment with Ivan that he had last walked these roads but his whole body yearned for home and that force seemed to pull him along._

_Looking around, mostly in fear that Ivan had already noticed his disappearance and was following him, he noticed how much everything had changed in the past eight years, the fish and chip shop he had so loved to go to with Francis and Antonio was now a pizza place and the park he had played in as a boy now had new swings, event the tree that he had always teased the boy with the violin about because he couldn't climb it had been cut down._

_He also couldn't help noticing how people stared at him, he must have looked dreadful. He hadn't had a wash in weeks, and he'd been wearing the same clothes for days, they were old ones Ivan had bought him a long time ago, cheap and probably Russian-made. His hair had grown quite long too, and seriously unruly, cutting it was one of the first things he planned to do when he got home._

_Soon enough he had reached the road he had lived on for the first eighteen years of his life. His home. He ran the last stretch, he wasn't sure how, he was so tired and so fucking weak but some new energy seemed to burst into him when he realised just how close he was to freedom._

_But when he got to the front door a new wave of fear washed over him, what the hell had he done? Surely Ivan would notice…but what could he do now?_

_He sighed and turned back to his house, it freaked him out quickly he had gotten there, he had lived so close to everyone he knew, yet he had spoken a word to them in almost a decade. Had his family ever passed the house that he had been stuck in? Had they ever thought to ask around on the day he went missing, to see if anyone had seen him?_

_He shook those thoughts out of his head and banged on the door, hoping that his Father still lived there, but he could have moved, and maybe someone Ivan knew lived here now. That made him stop, but the damage was done, he had already knocked._

_He almost ran again but the door was already opening and a young man stood there, it certainly wasn't his Father, he'd be almost fifty now, and the man stood before him was nowhere near that age. For a moment, he was sure they'd moved, but then it dawned on him, eight years was a long time, especially for a child, a lot could change. That was when he realised who the man standing in front of him, barely a metre away, was. It was his little brother. It was Ludwig. _

_His own confusion showed up on his brother's face at first as well, but then his blue eyes widened and his mouth fell open._

"_Is that…Is…what the…"_

"_Ludwig" Gilbert croaked, "Can I come in?"_

"_Gilbert? Shit, I thought you were _dead_."_

_Suddenly, the tiredness seemed to hit him like a ton of bricks, even with the journey home not being a long way, the most he had walked before in recent year had been scarcely a few metres, his body simply wasn't used to the physical exertion. His legs gave way and he started to fall; thankfully, Ludwig caught him before he hit the ground and slung one of Gilbert's flimsy arms around his neck and helped him to the sofa – it was a new sofa, and it looked pretty expensive – where he flopped down and groaned._

_After much fuss and stuttered starts of sentences by Ludwig, both brothers were seated and eating, the elder of the two ravenously so, shovelling food into his mouth like a greedy child. _Cooked food_, he couldn't believe it, he had eaten hardly anything for years, living off scraps and anything he could steal from the kitchen. After he finished, Gilbert wiped his mouth on his sleeve and looked back at his younger brother, "Do you have more?" he asked._

_Ludwig, who hadn't even touched his food yet, simply passed over his own plate in shock. Gilbert nodded in thanks and began eating again, but more slowly this time. He glanced up a few times at Ludwig as he ate, it pained him that he could not have seen Ludwig in his teenage years, he would have liked to see him grow from the timid twelve year old boy into the full-grown man that he was now. The blond hair that had once fallen in his face he now wore orderly slicked back like their Father's and he had built a lot of muscle on his body, Gilbert was sure that made him quite popular with the young women._

_When he'd finished the second plate he had asked if he could use the bathroom, to which Ludwig had simply responded with a nod, he was still so quiet, and Gilbert had ran upstairs._

_The bathroom mirror held his attention for the next hour or so, he had just stood there staring at it, not believing what he could see, the man in front of him was not the same person as the boy who had stood in this same spot eight years previously. He looked sick. He looked dirty. He looked _ugly_._

_He started running a bath, usually he'd just shower but he was sick of standing crying under running water for hours; because when he got out he never felt any cleaner. As he stripped off, he didn't glance at his body even once, he couldn't bear to, it repulsed him. As he sunk down into the water a small sense of calm fell over him, he was home and he'd never have to face Ivan again if everything went to plan, and damn did that that thought lift his spirits. He smiled, his face straining at the rare action. He submerged his head under the water, he had thought it might make him feel cleaner, but he instead became very aware of being surrounded, the water seemed to press down on him, choking him…_

_He had shot up and Ludwig's worried voice rang out, "Bruder! Are you all right?"_

_Gilbert cursed to himself, he must have screamed without realising, "'s fine!" he shouted back, then hastily washed his hair before getting out of the bath._

_Once he was out and had a towel wrapped around his waist, he had waited to hear sounds of Ludwig downstairs, to make sure that he wouldn't see him like this. After a few minutes, he was satisfied that Ludwig was busy and seemed to have no intention of coming upstairs and headed out of the bathroom. He had walked straight towards his old room, he wondered what they used it for now, probably a guest room, or a storage room._

_The door was open, so he glanced inside; it looked completely different to how he had left it, the posters that had one plastered the walls now no longer stared down at him, his old bed was still there but with a plain quilt neatly spread on top of it, the floor was pristine , which it had never been when he occupied this space and some of the furniture had since been replaced._

_But the items in the room that drew his attention the most was a pile of boxes at the back of the room, he strolled over to look at them. 'Gilbert' had been written on the top of each and every one of them in black marker pen, it looked like his Dad's handwriting. He flicked open the first box and was greeted with all of his old CDs and magazines, neatly piled. So they had kept all of his things, despite him telling his family that he wouldn't be coming back._

_He glanced through a couple of other boxes, games, schoolbooks and photographs dominated most of the first ones he went through, until he got to one with his clothes in, he wasn't sure whether they would still fit him, but he felt naked and besides, it wasn't like he had grown much. Slipping on a pair of old jeans and a T-shirt from some band he used to love he trudged back into the bathroom and looked around until he found a pair of scissors, he had never cut his own hair before, but it couldn't be that hard, right?_

_After much random snipping, Gilbert placed the scissors down and ran his hands through his once again short hair and headed downstairs, again slamming down on the couch. Ludwig walked into the room and gasped, "You cut your own hair?"_

_Gilbert ran his hand through his hair again, "Yeah, why? Is it that bad?"_

_Ludwig shook his head, "It's a bit messy, sure, but that's how it always has been. I would've cut it for you though."_

_The thought of someone coming near him with scissors made Gilbert shudder. Ludwig appeared not to notice though, as he too retook his place on the couch, he looked like he was itching to ask questions. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes before Ludwig gave in and asked, "Where have you been? You leave with just a note telling us not to try to contact you; you leave all your stuff behind, even your bloody violin, no one sees a glimpse of you for eight fucking years and then you show up on my doorstep looking like you've been to hell and back. What on earth happened to you?"_

_Gilbert just stared at him for a while, he wasn't used to so much talk, he had only had Ivan and his freaky sisters to talk to before now and it was only the oldest sibling he'd ever bothered trying to start a proper conversation with. Eventually, he had cleared his throat and replied, "I was with someone, but things started going wrong, I needed to move on." It was the story he decided to tell people, it was vague, but it sounded pretty believable._

_Ludwig's eyebrows creased into a frown, "That doesn't explain why you haven't spoken to any of us for eight years!" He looked upset now and Gilbert wanted to comfort him, but the image of his brother was replaced by the image of Ivan upset…_

"Why are you being so _mean_ Gilbert?"

_He whimpered and ran back upstairs, burying himself under the quilt. He hadn't slept well that night, he had woken a number of times, almost expecting to be back at Ivan's and by Ludwig's worried looks in the morning, he guessed he had shouted out a lot too._

_He tried to sleep the following day instead, but to no avail, so he just lay awake. Ludwig seemed to understand and just left him alone most of the time, occasionally bringing him food. The rest of the week had passed without incident; Gilbert simply rested and listened to the sounds of a world without Ivan. Sometimes it seemed Ludwig had other people round, but they didn't see Gilbert and he was grateful for that._

_He'd been there for six days when Ludwig really spoke to him again. He'd come in with some lunch, cautiously placing it on his bedside table. "Gilbert, can we talk?"_

_He really wasn't in the mood for talking, but Ludwig's desperate expression hit him hard so he smiled and nodded, "Sure."_

"_Er, look, I know that no matter how many times I ask, you're not going to tell me what happened to you. But something's not right, and I don't think moping around my house is helping at all." He gave Gilbert a weary look. Gilbert stared back incredulously, "You're kicking me out?"_

"_No! That's not what I meant, or not exactly anyway, you remember your old friends? Antonio and Francis? They've got a spare room where they are and they said they're happy to let you have it. I can pay your rent if you need until you find a job. It's just…you don't seem to be fully _here_, I thought spending time with them might help you."_

_Gilbert had objected at first, but Ludwig kept insisting that his current situation wasn't solving anything. Gilbert couldn't help thinking he had a point, and maybe some human interaction would liven him up a bit, so finally he gave in, and the next day, he actually got up, planning to leave quickly so as not to disturb his brother._

_He went over to the boxes in his room; he would need some clothes to take after all. Lying on top of the boxes was an envelope with his name scrawled on. It was probably from Ludwig, so he must have already left. He turned the envelope over in his hand and opened it, examining the contents, a note and some money. He pulled the note out and scanned it, Ludwig had written Antonio's address down and telephone numbers of helpful people to call, Gilbert wasn't even sure who some of them were but he recognised a few of the names as other old school friends. Ludwig had also written some advice of places Gilbert could get work when he 'felt up to it'._

_Gilbert put the note and the envelope with the money on the floor and started looking through the boxes again, he found an old black rucksack that he had sometimes used for school and shoved the envelope inside, followed by some clothes, but he would probably have to buy some new ones too, he dreaded to think how out of fashion they all were now._

_After he was satisfied that he had a decent amount of clothes, he stood up to leave, but his CD collection caught his eye and he sat back down, maybe there was something decent in there. He flicked through it; most of the CDs were pretty similar, really loud metal music he had bought just to annoy his Dad or punk and rock bands that he and Arthur had loved to listen to. Then his hand froze._

_A picture of a violin decorated the front cover of the case lying in front of him and gold, fancy lettering ran across the bottom. It wasn't his CD, he had borrowed it from that boy because apparently he himself lacked 'eloquent musical taste', whatever that was._

_He scoured through the rest of the boxes to see if his CD player was still there. Thankfully, it was at the bottom of the CD box. He pulled it out and was about to plug it in when he saw the clock, it was already mid-afternoon. He hadn't realised how late he had woken, Antonio and Francis would probably be waiting for him. He jumped up, stuffed the CD player and the classical disc into the top of his pack, pulled on a bright red hoody and ran out of the house._

He turned away from the mirror now and pulled the CD player out of his bag, plugging it into the wall. He doubted his friends would care too much if he was playing music; Antonio was playing some Spanish crap downstairs anyway.

It had been so long since he had last listened to the disc that he was surprised how familiar the first track seemed to him, like he had heard it simply the week before. Realisation crept up on him and he slowly turned the case over. Track 1 was a piece composed by Tchaikovsky. Russian. He quickly clicked the 'next' button so that it faded into Pachelbel's Canon in D major. Much more like it.

The music took him back to his hours playing music in his room as a teenager, his Father had been mildly bemused but impressed that Gilbert had chosen to learn both the violin and the electric guitar. He could feel his hands itching to play, but he hadn't seen his violin amongst his things in his room at home at home, they had probably sold it.

He slumped down on his bed again, this time his intention being to sleep. For the first time in he couldn't remember how long, Ivan did not immediately invade his slumber, he dreamt instead of walking to school, he could see some of his friends in front of him, he ran to catch up with them, but no matter how fast he ran, he didn't seem to get any closer to them, he called out and the tallest boy turned around. He thought it was Mathias but as he turned around, the blond hair turned lighter and flattened down until Ivan was smiling down at him.

"You're coming back to me, да?"

He woke up abruptly in a cold sweat, shaking. Mozart's 'Adagio' blared out of the CD player, but now he simply wasn't in the mood. He yanked the plug out and lay back down, curled over in a foetal position but not daring to close his eyes again.

**I'm sorry if you're a Russia fan, he's not that nice in this fanfiction :P But I will be writing other fics where it's more about his cute(but still kinda creepy XD) side.**

**(Oh, and if you didn't already guess, 'Lars' is Denmark, I like that name for him :'D I may end up changing it to Mathias if people are particularly annoyed about that…) - I changed it to Mathias!  
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	2. Chapter 2: Father

**A/N: Okay, more human names. 'Aldrich' is Germania, 'Julius' is Rome, 'Paolo' is Seborga and 'Sarah' is Wy. Yay for minor characters!**

**Also, a few things I forgot to mention in Chapter 1, Gilbert is 26 in this fanfiction, as is Antonio, Francis is 25, but may turn 26 later on(if I don't forget when his birthday is :'D).  
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The midday sun greeted Gilbert the next day, so he must have managed to fall asleep after all. He quickly showered, dressed and trudged downstairs to find Antonio chatting non-stop to a young man Gilbert hadn't met before, but he could only assume was the earlier mentioned 'Lovi'.

He looked younger than Gilbert imagined, more like a teenager than an adult, which would certainly explain Antonio's attraction to him. He had lightly tanned skin and dark hair, with a curl protruding from the middle. The young man scowled at him, "Who the hell are you?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt, but you can call me 'The embodiment of all that is Awesome' if you want."

"Beilschmidt?" The man's face twisted in disgust, "There are more of you fuckers?"

Antonio grinned sheepishly, "Lovino, Ludwig's really not as bad as ya make him out to be. Gilbert's his brother anyway, so I wouldn't recommend insulting him."

Lovino looked confused as hell, his eyes flicking between Antonio and Gilbert, "If you're his brother, one: why don't you look anything like him? And two: how the hell haven't I met you before now?"

Gilbert felt his hand self-consciously going to his hair, "I take more after our mother apparently, don't really remember her very much though…" He trailed off, he didn't like talking about his mother after what happened.

He looked back to Lovino, who was still scowling at him, "You haven't answered my other question, why haven't I seen you before now? You've never been at any family things, I don't even remember seeing you at the wedding, and looking like that doesn't make you someone who's easy to forget."

Okay, now it was Gilbert's turn to be confused, was he missing something? "Er, who's wedding exactly?"

"Your Father's you idiot"

"He remarried?" that was the last thing he'd been expecting, his Father had been absolutely devastated when his wife had committed suicide, but that had been twenty years ago now. Still, he'd brought up Gilbert and Ludwig all by himself and it seemed weird to picture him being with someone else.

"Yeah, to _my_ father"

Whoa. _That_ was the last thing Gilbert been expecting, it seemed the world had gone kind of crazy since he had been gone, he hadn't even realised his father was into men.

"Wait, guys can get married now?"

Lovino gave him a look that blatantly said, 'Are you stupid or something?' before rolling his eyes, "Fine, they're in a civil partnership, same thing."

Antonio chimed in again, "No it's not! In Spain, guys like us can _actually _get full, equal marriage."

"So why don't you piss of back to Spain, get married and leave us all in peace."

Antonio gave a mock offended look and leant over to kiss his young Italian boyfriend, he grinned, "But you'd come with me, wouldn'tcha?" Lovino blushed furiously but didn't pull away.

"Antonio, you bastard, leave me alone!"

Now that Gilbert thought about it, he hadn't seen his Father at all. He went upstairs and looked again at the telephone numbers that Ludwig had given him, his father was the penultimate name on the list, proceeding the man he assumed was his partner. He glanced at the numbers next to the word 'Dad', he didn't recognise the landline. How had he not even noticed that his dad wasn't there? Even more worrying, why hadn't Ludwig mentioned anything? Surely their dad getting married, or getting into a civil partnership (whatever that was) was pretty important news. On the other hand, he himself hadn't asked about his father, not even how he was. It seemed eight years of not having to care about anyone else but himself had left him selfish; the only thing he had talked about with his brother had been himself.

He would have to go back, not to Ivan's, but to Ludwig's, he wanted to know if anything else had happened, what the hell else he had missed in his confinement. He ran back downstairs, "Antonio! I'm off to my brother's for a bit, I'll be back later!"

As he closed the door he heard Lovino shout back, "Tell him 'Fuck you!' from me, would you?"

* * *

><p>"Hey! Ludwig! Open up!" Gilbert shouted as he slammed his hand against the door, but it wasn't Ludwig who opened it and for a mad second he thought Lovino had walked here ahead of him until the man said "Veh~" and promptly glomped him.<p>

He hadn't been prepared for the sudden contact, his whole body froze for a second before he jumped back, pushing the young man off him. His vision blurred and suddenly Ivan was standing in front of him, with that awful childlike smile, but the voice that escaped his lips was not Ivan's high-pitched tone, it was lower and when he closed and reopened his eyes he realised that Ivan wasn't there at all. Instead, Ludwig was giving him a panicked look before turning to the Lovino-look-alike, with his expression turning stern.

"Feliciano! What have I told you about touching people?"

Feliciano shook his head frantically, tears welling up in his eyes, "Veh~Veh~ I'm sorry! I just wanted to say hello! I didn't mean anything by it!"

Ludwig seemed to be trying to keep his face stern, but it was obvious from the fond look in his eyes and the tugging at the corner of his mouth that he found the Italian's outburst to be rather cute.

"It's cool" Gilbert finally piped up after regaining his composure, Ludwig shot him a sceptical look before inviting him in and introducing the Italian man, "So, this is Feliciano Vargas he's my, er…" Ludwig went slightly pink.

Feliciano grinned, "I'm his boyfriend!"

It was only now that Gilbert looked properly at Feliciano, he assumed he was Lovino's twin brother, despite his lighter hair and complexion, he also held an air of friendliness that Lovino had severely lacked.

Then it hit him, if Feliciano was indeed Lovino's twin brother, that would also make him…

"Dude" he said, staring straight at Ludwig with mild amusement, "Isn't he our step-brother?"

If possible, Ludwig's face went an even darker shade of pink, "Er, yeah."

"Is that even legal?"

"It's not like we're married or anything."

"Yeah, like dad," Gilbert shot Ludwig an offended look, "You could've mentioned"

Ludwig looked at the floor uncomfortably, Feliciano didn't seem to know where to look but judging by his vacant expression, that may have simply been because he was lost in his thoughts.

Eventually Ludwig sighed, "You seemed really stressed, you didn't seem yourself, I didn't want to bombard you with information. Besides, if you'd stayed in contact, you would've known anyway."

Gilbert closed his eyes for a moment, he really wanted to tell his brother why he couldn't call, but the words wouldn't come and even starting to recall everything hurt, he didn't want to think about any of that, not now, so he built a wall around those memories and made himself return to where he was, here and now, talking to Ludwig, in Ludwig's house, nothing else existed. "I couldn't." He said simply.

But Ludwig continued to press him, "But why? Why couldn't you have just called every once in a while?"

He could feel the wall crumbling, "Don't." he pleaded, "Just don't. I didn't come here to talk about me anyway." He finally looked his brother in the eye, that was difficult, he felt like people could see through him, what had happened to him but with that wall built up in his head he felt slightly more secure. He continued, "I want to know about you, how have you been?"

Ludwig seemed reluctant at first, it was obvious that he still expected an explanation from Gilbert and he was probably pretty angry too, Gilbert got the impression he wasn't going to answer at all, but then he sighed.

"From since you left?"

Gilbert nodded.

"It hurt at first, that you didn't really say goodbye, I think it hurt Dad too, he felt it was somehow his fault that you left, he got pretty upset. I didn't really know what to do so I just carried on trying to do well at school, life got pretty uneventful to be honest, it was so routine."

Gilbert was quite surprised, he'd never been that close to his father, he had sometimes even wondered whether his father blamed him for his mother's death. It was weird to discover he had actually been upset at Gilbert's absence, so he hadn't just been a nuisance after all.

Ludwig continued, "Then he met Julius, this was about six years ago, so I was fourteen I think, he found him really annoying at first, in fact he still does, but he started seeing a lot more of him and a couple of years ago they got into a civil partnership and dad moved in with him, he left this house to me, more bribes to keep me here I guess."

Gilbert gave him a quizzical look.

"I wanted to join the military," Ludwig explained, "Dad never really liked that idea, I don't think he wanted to fall out of contact with me too, but he kept encouraging me to finish my education and, er, Feliciano was never that keen on me joining the military either." He gave his boyfriend a fond look, Feliciano grinned enthusiastically back at him. "I planned to study engineering at university, but once again Dad wasn't keen on that, he wanted me to do something more 'academically or artistically focused', so I ended up studying classics."

Gilbert motioned his hand towards Feliciano, "Does he live with you?"

Feliciano grinned even wider, "I'm moving in soon, but my brother's not too happy with that, he doesn't like Ludwig very much."

"Yeah, I'd noticed." Gilbert responded, he turned back to Ludwig, "Almost forgot, he told me to tell you 'Fuck you' from him"

"Gee, charming as always"

"Veh~ You've met Lovino? But Ludi told me you've only just got back into contact with your family."

"Yeah, but I'm living with Antonio and Francis at the moment, so I had the misfortune of meeting him this morning. Anyway, I would have asked how you two met, but I'm guessing it was through our dad and your dad, huh?" He addressed the last part to Feliciano, he was easier to talk to than his stoic little brother.

"Si~ Si~ And we went to school together too, and we're currently attending the same university, but I'm studying Art."

They talked like this for a while, trivial conversation. But Gilbert was thankful for it, he could start filling in small parts of his brother's life he had missed, things he would have known if he had stuck around. And then Ludwig came out with something Gilbert supposed he should have expected, but by no means liked hearing anyway.

"Grandad died last year, I think it hit him pretty hard that you never visited him when he was dying, he was always really fond of you."

"Der alte Fritz…" Gilbert choked, "He's dead?" He couldn't believe it, he didn't want to believe it. His grandfather had always been who he had looked up to, his father had always been too busy, too distant to ever connect with. But Fritz, as Gilbert had always called him as a boy, had been his hero.

He had loved to go to his house after school and listen to him talking, especially about the war; Fritz had been born in 1933, so he'd been a young boy during the war and he remembered it vividly, he talked of his terror when the British bomber planes flew over Berlin, of the noise and chaos. Then there were other days when he would talk more solemnly, of his time in East Germany after the war, a sad look would always play across his face when he spoke of those years and Gilbert could understand why, he may have only been four years old when they had moved to what had been West Germany, but his few, foggy memories were filled with images of poverty and desperation.

He could feel tears beginning to well in his eyes and quickly blinked them back so that his brother wouldn't see.

"Yeah, his heart started getting worse and worse, and every time I saw him, he asked me if I'd seen you recently, I kept telling him you were never coming back but he'd have none of it. He kept insisting you'd come visit him. You never did though, did you?"

Gilbert carried on blinking back tears and shook his head, he tried to choke out his usual "I couldn't" response but even that was too much. A burst of self-loathing broke out over Gilbert, how could he have sat feeling sorry himself at Ivan's, when his dear old Fritz was dying? Surely he could have escaped sooner, he had had a million chances, but he had always been too fucking scared. And this was the cost, this was his punishment. But the punishment had not been dealt to him, but to his poor old grandfather. That wasn't fair!

"I wanna go visit him, his grave, I know it's not the same and believe me bruder, if I'd known how ill he was, I would've gone to see him, but I really need to talk to him."

Ludwig nodded, "But first you should talk to dad, he really misses you."

Gilbert sighed, "Fine, can you call him over here?"

"Right now?"

"Sure, why not?"

"It's just, you still seem pretty down, you sure you don't want to wait a couple more days or something?"

"Ludwig, it was you who wanted me to speak to him in the first place," Gilbert said, exasperated.

"Fine, fine, I'll call!" He leaned over and picked up the phone, he had just started dialling when Gilbert interrupted, "Wait"

Ludwig looked pissed, "You changed your mind?"

"No, it's just, can I call him?"

Ludwig passed over the receiver, his face softening. Gilbert could feel his own hands shaking, this would be the first time he'd talked to his own father in almost a decade, he wasn't even sure if his father wanted to talk to him. Nevertheless, he pulled the piece of paper with his dad's number on it out of the pocket he now carried it in and dialled the number into Ludwig's phone.

* * *

><p>Aldrich checked on Paolo again and sighed, "You're still on Facebook? Shouldn't you be doing homework?"<p>

Paolo's face was that of a deer trapped in headlights as he quickly clicked a tab on his computer so that Wikipedia showed up instead. "I am doing homework too!"

Aldrich highly doubted that, the Wikipedia page was probably just a cover up, and he couldn't see any word documents open, "You shouldn't fall behind on your school work, you're clever, don't let it go to waste."

Paolo frowned, "I'm not clever."

"Who told you that?"

"Sarah mostly, and she's _really_ clever, and really artistic too, it's not fair, the teacher always compliments her artwork, apparently I'm 'not modern' enough"

Aldrich raised his eyebrows, it certainly sounded like someone had a crush, "Just because some girl and an art teacher don't like your drawings, that doesn't make you stupid. Besides, I can try to help you with your homework if you want."

Since he had felt like such an awful father to Ludwig and Gilbert when they were younger, Aldrich had tried to be more involved with Julius' youngest son, Paolo. At times, the eccentric Italian boy was harder to put up with than his loud father but there were other times he loved to spend time with him.

Paolo grinned, "Could you? I don't understand a word of it."

Just then, the phone rang, Aldrich stood up to get it and Paolo's grin faded to a look of disappointment, it was exactly the same expression Ludwig and Gilbert had given him when he was too busy to spend time with them.

"I'm sorry, but it might be important, I promise I'll help you afterwards, okay?"

Paolo nodded, but the look on his face didn't fade and Aldrich felt a pang of guilt as he went to pick up the phone. Damn Julius was out of the house so he had to get it, but he felt awful promising something to his adoptive son and breaking it in mere seconds.

He picked up the receiver, "Hello, Aldrich Beilschmidt speaking, how can I help you?"

Suddenly the door burst open and Julius barged in with bags of shopping, "I'm ho-ome!" Aldrich cursed under his breath before the reply from the phone came,

"Hey Dad, it's Gilbert."

Aldrich's hand, which he'd been lifting to wave at his husband, froze in midair and his throat went dry, "Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"No Dad, I just wanted to call."

"Gilbert left eight years ago, leaving me no means to contact him at all, why would he suddenly call?"

"Dad, listen, I am Gilbert and I wanted to call before, I really did, I just couldn't."

"Please stop this, my son might be dead for all I know, I don't appreciate this kind of humour."

He sounded frustrated now, "Dad, _mein__gott_, it's me, your son! This isn't a friggin' joke. I'm at Ludwig's right now, you can come over, see for yourself."

Aldrich wasn't sure what to believe, the man on the phone certainly sounded like Gilbert, but he was worried that if he clung onto that shred of hope that Gilbert was alive and wanted to see him again and it turned out not to be true, that he would simply shut down again, as he had when when his wife had spiralled into depression, eventually killing herself and when Gilbert had first left. He was surprised he had managed to cope at all actually. But then again, that was mostly because of Julius.

_Aldrich stared down into the half-a-glass of beer in front of him, absorbing the sounds around him; mostly it was small groups of friends, coming down to the pub together after a long week at work, chatting about the most trivial of things, who had died on a soap that week, the latest news on their gorgeous boss's divorce, a hilarious slip-up someone had made in the office earlier. Then a closer voice came to his ears, "Hello-o? Earth to moody blond guy!"_

_Aldrich assumed the man was talking to him and looked up, "What do you want?"_

_The man grinned, he was quite handsome, he had tanned skin and unruly dark brown hair and judging by his accent and the fact that he wasn't drinking beer, he was probably European. "Nothing much, I just came to say hello."_

"_Well, hello. Happy?" Aldrich turned back to his drink but the man didn't leave and he was now being approached by the irritable young British man who helped his mother run the pub, "Is there anything I can get you?"_

_Aldrich was pretty sure the boy was too young to be serving people alcohol, but he didn't question it and the European man didn't seem to care, "Yes please! Could I have some wine?"_

"_Certainly, but we don't sell any French wine, do you mind?"_

"_Not at all, I already knew that anyway, I come here quite a lot, your Mother always serves me though."_

"_Ah I see." He said, pouring a glass of wine, "She probably fancies you."_

_The man grinned, "Who doesn't?"_

"_Me, I assure you." The British boy replied, handing the glass over to Julius and taking his money, he pointed at Aldrich, "And he's not looking too interested either." He added, before serving a different customer._

_Much to Aldrich's dismay, Mr. Annoying European was still gracing him with his presence._

"_So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"_

"_I'm sorry?"_

"_Come on, I see you here all the time, you never have anyone with you and you just sit there, drinking your sorrows away. Something's up, and I'm curious."_

_Aldrich stared at him with disbelief, "Are you a stalker?"_

_That man laughed at that, a big hearty laugh, it was something he never really heard anymore, he himself never found himself laughing, Ludwig wasn't exactly a cheery person and he didn't see much of any of his friends anymore. The man's laugh was comforting, even if he was a bit weird._

"_Not a stalker exactly, I just happened to be in the same place you were." He took a sip of wine, "But unlike you, I'm rarely alone, so I've never had a chance to talk to you before."_

"_Today is obviously my lucky day." He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, couldn't this guy just leave him alone already?_

"_Indeed it is! So, what's wrong? I'm sick of watching you here, week in, week out. There are a million other things you could be doing."_

"_Like what exactly?" In spite of himself, Aldrich found himself talking to the man after all. Perhaps a conversation other than talks with patients at work and the occasional chat the pub owner's son Arthur about whether he'd heard any news about Gilbert would be good._

"_Have anyone special?" The man asked._

"_I had a wife, but she killed herself many years ago now." Why was he even telling him all of this?_

_The man's expression became more solemn, "I'm sorry." He swirled the wine in his glass around and downed the last bit, "You've not seen anyone since?"_

"_No, I've been too busy."_

"_Busy? With what?"_

"_My work, and bringing up my children."_

"_You have children?" The man grinned, "They're a pain in the butt, right? How old are they?"_

_Aldrich went quiet, he didn't like talking about Gilbert too much, he spent far too much time thinking about him. He hated to think how many hours he had wasted sitting around by the phone or the front window with the slim hope that Gilbert would change his mind about wherever he was, that he would come home._

"_Ludwig's fourteen, and Gilbert's twenty, but he broke contact, I don't see him anymore."_

"_He's fourteen and you just leave him at home to come out drinking?"_

_Aldrich glared at him, "Who are you to tell me how to bring up my son?"_

_The man held up his hands defensively, "I didn't mean anything by it, it's just, don't you think spending more time with him might cheer you up a bit?"_

_Now that the man had brought it up, Aldrich couldn't think of the last time he had gone out of his way to spend time with Ludwig. "Shit." He felt his face falling forward, "I'm a really bad father."_

_The European man now looked a little worried, "I'm sure you're not that bad, if it's any consolation, my kids are at home alone too right now, but my eldest is sixteen, so he's supposed to be responsible or something."_

"_No, it's not just that, I'm just a bad father in general, why else do you think Gilbert wants nothing to do with me?"_

"_I wouldn't know, I don't know him, but what I do know is that you're a sad, lonely bastard who needs a friend. I've got to be getting back home now, goodness knows what Lovino's doing to his brothers to keep them in order, but I'll see you tomorrow alright?" He handed a phone number, "And call me if you need me."_

"_I don't even know you're name!"_

_He grinned, "I'm Julius Vargas, and you?"  
>"Aldrich <em>_Beilschmidt__."_

"_Well, nice to meet you Aldrich. By tomorrow, I expect a smile on that grumpy old face of yours."_

_As Julius walked out of the pub, Aldrich turned back to his beer, or what had been his beer, he must have finished it whilst the man was talking. He almost ordered another one but he thought of Ludwig alone at home, he was independent enough, he was probably getting on with some homework or watching a history program on TV, but still, he was alone and Aldrich couldn't help feeling guilty. He stood up to leave and piece of paper fluttered to the floor, he leaned down to pick it up, it was Julius's number. He pocketed it and as he walked out of the Kirkland's pub, he felt a small smile creep onto his face._

"I'll come over in about an hour." He finally said, "But this had better not be a prank."

"It's not, see you then."

"Mm. And…nothing, see you." He hung up but stayed staring at the receiver, he had an hour to decide what to say if it really was Gilbert, it wasn't like it took very long to get to his old house, so right now he just needed to sit down. He walked through to the living room in a daze and fell into an armchair, Julius sauntered into the room from the kitchen and kissed him on the cheek.

"Who was on the phone?" He asked, a curious twinkle in his eye. Aldrich looked at him, still not entirely sure if he believed it himself.

"Gilbert."

**I'll try to get Chapter 3 up soon, but it's taking a helluva long time to write XD **


	3. Chapter 3: Ivan

**A/N: I was so happy when I logged onto my computer and some people had actually reviewed this! And they were really positive, so that means a lot :3 so thank you The Phantom Devil and SnowinZodiac, I've literally been buzzing from happiness all morning(well, except for in my exam, then I was just dying :'D)**

**Anyway, I have changed Denmark's name, so he's now 'Mathias' and Holland is 'Lars', Belgium is 'Marianne', I know 'Belle' is the most popular name for her, but I prefer Marianne. This chapter has some quite light-hearted scenes in, which there won't be too many of in this fanfiction as a whole. Sorry! **

When Aldrich got to the house, much to his chagrin, it was Ludwig who opened the door. Not that he didn't want to see Ludwig, but Gilbert opening the door would have confirmed straight away that this wasn't a prank from some heartless imbecile.

He looked at his youngest son, keeping his face impassive as usual, but he couldn't help hearing desperation escape in his voice, "Is Gilbert here?"

"Yeah, he's in the lounge, but don't ask him too many questions or anything, he doesn't seem well."

"Not well?" Aldrich asked, worried, "How do you mean?"

"I dunno, he just doesn't seem all there, but he won't tell me a thing."

_Gott_, what had happened to him? He hope Gilbert hadn't been living on the streets or caught a terminal illness or anything, maybe Ludwig was overreacting, maybe Gilbert was fine.

He walked through to the living room, Feliciano was sprawled across the couch, but it was the other young man in the room who occupied Aldrich's attention. Gilbert stood slightly hunched, leaning against the wall, he had lost a lot of weight and had huge dark circles under his eyes. His skin was deathly pale and there was no way he could describe the state his son was in as 'fine', he could see what Ludwig meant.

Gilbert looked up and as his red eyes found his father's blue, a million things hung unsaid in the air, eight years apart and even before that, Gilbert had spent so much time out of the house that at times Aldrich felt he didn't really know his son at all. There were so many things he wanted to say, wanted to ask; where he had been, how he was, why he had left, he wanted an explanation, he felt he deserved one. But then one word escaped Gilbert's lips and all thoughts of quizzing his son left his mind.

"Vati." He didn't sound like a grown man at all, but like a boy and Aldrich felt a sudden urge to hold him, to protect him. But when he reached out to hug his son, Gilbert cried out and his knees gave way, he fell to the floor, shaking.

Aldrich stared in horror, uncertain of what to do. Gilbert seemed to be mumbling something, he listened closer and caught 'please don't', he blocked it out, he didn't even want to know, not when his son sounded so despearate, in case his fears of what had happned to Gilbert came true. Ludwig ran over and knelt down so he was level with his brother, he shook his shoulder.

"Gilbert!"

He cried out again but then he looked at Ludwig and his body relaxed and his breathing began to slow down from the ragged mumbling it had been before.

"What the hell was that about?" Aldrich asked, stunned.

Gilbert just looked at him, then pulled himself up off the floor, so he was leaning once more against the wall, "I just…" He started, "…It's nothing, can we pretend that didn't happen?" Aldrich continued to stare at him.

Gilbert scowled, "Jeez, it's fine, okay? You're all looking t me like I'm a mental patient or something."

Aldrich tried to relax his face, but he felt worried sick, "Gilbert, what happened to you?"

"Nothing, okay? Nothing."

Ludwig interrupted, "But, bruder, that's the second time that's happened."

Aldrich was even more horrified, "What?"

"When Feliciano tried to hug him earlier."

"He reacted the same?"

"_He_ is still in the room!" Gilbert snarled.

"I'm sorry Gilbert, but seriously, what the hell was that about?"

Gilbert hit his head back against the wall, it was clear he was getting frustrated, "For the last time: nothing! Just leave it, how are you?"

Aldrich couldn't believe Gilbert had changed the subject like that, wasn't he going to tell him anything?

"I'm alright…I'm glad you're safe, but you don't look well. Has something happened?"

Gilbert's face relaxed slightly, he looked almost relieved, but it quickly changed back to an irate look, "Nothing out of the ordinary." He said, seemingly after some thought.

By now, Aldrich was starting to get annoyed too, Gilbert's vague answers, the weird behaviour when he was touched and his constant demanding that nothing was wrong. Aldrich was starting to feel like the only one not in on a joke, but then again, Ludwig also seemed utterly clueless, "But where have you been?"

"I said in my letter," Gilbert indicated to mid air as if the letter were right in front of him, "I went to live with someone."

"Who?"

Gilbert frowned, "Just some guy…I didn't think you'd approve, I mean, you grew up in East Germany, and you're pretty conservative, I didn't realise that, er, you were into guys as well. But that's why I didn't tell you."

Aldrich didn't believe a word of it, "You can't be serious."

"I am, anyway, I have a bunch of stuff I need to sort out, so I'm going back to Antonio's, but I'd love to catch up with you and whatever-his-name-is sometime." And he promptly stormed out the house, Aldrich wondered if he had even meant the last bit. He looked at Ludwig, who just shrugged, "I did warn you."

Feliciano finally spoke up, "Veh~ I thought he seemed alright."

Ludwig turned to him, "Yeah., but you didn't know him beforehand, he's like a completely different person, and he looks ill…In fact, I'm going to go give him a lift, I'm worried he might faint or something otherwise." He looked at his father, "I'm sorry about that, maybe he'll open up a bit more once he's settled, he's only been back for about a week."

Aldrich nodded, "I'd better be getting home then, it was good seeing you again, however briefly." He inclined his head towards Feliciano and left the house, Ludwig following behind, presumably to pick up Gilbert.

* * *

><p>Ludwig started the engine in his car, he doubted Gilbert had walked very far so he slowly trundled down the road. It was mere seconds before he saw Gilbert just turning the corner; he sped up a little to catch up with him. Gilbert turned his head slightly; he must have heard the car. He seemed to spot the car but instead of stopping as Ludwig had expected him to, he sped up his pace and out his head down.<p>

Ludwig sped up a little more and pulled up next to his big brother, he leaned out the car, "Oi! Gilbert!"

Gilbert turned around, he looked terrified for a second but then his mouth formed a small 'o' and he walked over. "I'll give you a lift." Ludwig said.

Gilbert pulled himself into the passenger seat, "Thanks."

"Um, seatbelt?" Ludwig said, indicating at the seatbelt that Gilbert hadn't put on.

"Meh, it's not far, I'm sure I'll live."

Ludwig rolled his eyes but didn't try to argue. He pulled back onto the road and began to drive to Antonio's, he glanced at Gilbert, who had a puzzled look on his face, "What's that?" He asked.

Ludwig looked where he was pointing, "Er, it's a satnav."

Gilbert poked it, "Yeah, but what does it do?"

Okay, he was joking right? But the fascinated look on Gilbert's face as he pressed goodness knows what on the little machine told him otherwise.

"You use it to find locations and stuff, like a map."

"Awesome! I'm gonna type in Antonio's address."

"Gilbert, I know where he lives."

"Yeah, but still." He typed in the postcode.

"In 100 metres, turn right."

"Oh my God it talks." Gilbert looked awestruck, "This is officially the most awesome thing ever…Apart from me, and Gilbird."

Suddenly, it started bleeping, "At the nearest opportunity, please turn around." Ludwig sighed, "Only thing is, sometimes it has weird routes in mind, it obviously has a different way to Antonio's to the one I know." He turned it off.

Gilbert shrugged, "I was getting bored of it anyway." Ludwig doubted that.

But that was weird, satnavs weren't exactly a new invention, he was surprised Gilbert had never encountered one before. "Gil, have you been living in a cave or something?"

"Yeah, in Antarctica, with wild bears. No Ludwig, I have not been living in a cave."

Ludwig went quiet briefly, then he turned to his brother again, "Do you even know who the Prime Minister is?"

"Probably some arsehole. We're here now anyway, so you can stop quizzing me." He opened the door, "Thanks for the lift." He said as he ran up to his current residence and disappeared behind the door.

Ludwig set off back home, Gilbert was certainly more normal than he had been for the past week, but he still wasn't convinced, something was up and somehow he'd find out what that was.

* * *

><p>Gilbert opened the door and strode across the hall to glance into the living room, Lovino was still there, leaning against Antonio and writing something on a laptop whilst conversing with his boyfriend; Gilbert assumed Antonio was helping him with some university work. He looked again at the laptop, "You got any other computers lying around?"<p>

Antonio jumped slightly and looked up, "Oh, hey Gilbert! I didn't expect ya back so soon."

Lovino also looked up, but he seemed unperturbed by Gilbert's presence, "How's Ludwig?" He asked a malicious glint in his eye.

"Fine."

"Damn, why can't he get a terminal illness and die already?"

"Lovi, you really shouldn't make jokes like that."

"And what if I'm not joking? I want that bastard away from my brother."

"Yeah, well I doubt your brother would be too happy if he knew the kind of things I did to you."

Lovino went as red as the tomatoes on the coffee table, "Antonio!"

Gilbert cleared his throat loudly, "The computer." He reminded Antonio.

"Oh, right, sorry 'bout that. I think my laptop's on my bed upstairs, I know it's plugged in but it's probably fully charged by now so feel free to pull it out."

Gilbert was about to run up to get it but he paused, "Is Francis ever actually around?"

Antonio laughed, "You'll see more of him during the week, he works on Sundays, for some posh-ass restaurant in town, it's pretty nice there, I've taken Lovino a couple of times."

"Awesome, I'll remember to demand a free meal from him then." He grinned before searching for Antonio's room. It wasn't hard to find seeing as the house wasn't all that big. He stepped cautiously into the room. As expected, it was a bit of a mess; a empty coffee cup and plate lay strewn on his bedside table, his bed hadn't been made and stacks of paper and what looked like school books littered the floor. But as promised, the laptop was sitting on the pillow of his bed, Gilbert unplugged it and was just about to leave when he noticed a board of photos stuck above Antonio's bed, many of them were of him and Lovino, they'd seemingly been together quite a while. But there were other pictures too; some of them were him with a young man and woman that Gilbert vaguely remembered were Antonio's cousins, but he was sure he'd seen the two of them kissing once, so he wasn't so sure. Other pictures were of him and Francis and a few of them also contained Mathias and Arthur

Right at the bottom, though, was the picture that really caught Gilbert's attention. It showed a group of scruffy looking boys in football kits, looking dead pleased with themselves and with their arms round each other. Gilbert smiled; it was the five of them. Mathias was in the middle of the picture and his chuffed grin was the widest, he had been a year older than Francis, Antonio and Gilbert, or the 'Bad Friends Trio' as they had been nicknamed at school, but nonetheless they had got on really well and during their later years at secondary school had gone out and got drunk together far more than they should have.

To his immediate left was Arthur. Once again, Arthur had not been in the same school year as the Bad Friends Trio, but two years younger. They had been apprehensive of him at first; the Kirkland family had quite a reputation at their school. The oldest one, James –or Jamie if you dared- was infamous in the school for beating up younger kids and generally being a nasty piece of work. Then there were the twins, Shannon and Patrick, they argued non-stop but then never talked to anyone else except to occasionally join their older brother in bullying young students. Rhys was the final Kirkland to join the school before Arthur, he was in Gilbert's year and thankfully wasn't as unpleasant as his siblings…he was just plain weird, Antonio had once asked him whether he was into men or women, his reply had been enough to keep Antonio from talking to him again, "Sheep. I like sheep."

So when they had heard that another Kirkland sibling was joining the school when they were going into their third year, they hadn't expected to like him at all. But he was _awesome. _Sarcastic, punky and, sure, pretty unpleasant but not to the same degree as his older siblings. Even better, he didn't take Francis's shit, Gilbert remembered one time when Francis had started flirting with Arthur, the young British boy had promptly kicked him in the balls and stared triumphantly at the blubbering mess on the floor he became.

On the far left of the picture was Francis, golden hair tied up and his usually perfect legs caked in a layer of mud, but he didn't seem to care, his ever handsome face smiling radiantly at the camera.

To Mathias's immediate right, and by the looks of things being slightly crushed by the older boy's strong grip, was Antonio, his hair also tied up as he had worn it long for a few years as a teenager, apparently it was 'cool' but Gilbert had always thought he looked like an idiot with it like that. Like Francis, he was caked in mud, particularly on his right side where he had skidded to hit the ball earlier on and his chest was decorated with a muddy footprint where he had been kicked by his cousin, Lars.

Gilbert himself was right on the end, his grin only fractionally less wide than Mathias', he also had his arm round Antonio and the other was doing a peace sign at the cameraman, he looked happier than he'd seen himself in years and Gilbird, who was pretty new at the time, was nestled in his white hair.

The picture had been taken on the day that they had won that season's 5-a-side football league that their school ran. There were two leagues, one for years 7 to 10 and another year 11 and the Sixth form. The teachers encouraged mixed aged teams, otherwise the matches would have consisted of a bunch of burly year 10s flattening frightened new year 7s.

Gilbert had immediately wanted Antonio to be on his team, it was how they had become friends in the first place, because _damn _could that boy play football.

_Antonio cheered and high-fived Gilbert as he ran up the pitch, they had equalised, but there were only five minutes left to go, and they wanted victory._

They had Francis on the team just because they were friends; he wasn't a particularly spectacular player though, so he was always shoved in goal. Thankfully, after a bit of training he turned out not to be too bad at it.

_The opposing goalie, a solemn boy from Cameroon in the year below them, threw the ball to Antonio's big cousin. Bad move. He'd kept it within his own half, Gilbert grinned and ran towards the tall Dutch boy. Marianne, Antonio's younger cousin, was hot on his tail and he was pretty sure she could outrun him. He cursed and looked around for any sign of Arthur or Antonio._

Mathias was useful because of his size. He was so damn huge that as a defender, the younger kids ran up the field, full of confidence, then banged into him before they could reach the goal and almost wet themselves. That, and he was pretty nifty with a football too, something he would brag about to his Norwegian peer who he spent his whole secondary school life pursuing, but Gilbert wasn't sure if they ever actually dated.

_Arthur was hanging back with Mathias in case the ball went up that way, but he could see no sign of Antonio. Then, out of no where, Antonio sped past him and skidded into Lars. Gilbert quickly cut across Marianne and sprinted left to receive the ball once Antonio's foot had expertly collided with it._

Arthur was keen to be on their team, they had laughed at first, a little year 7? With the Bad Friends Trio, the coolest kids in school? He had to be joking, but they let him show then what he could do and when he out-skilled Gilbert – or so Francis and Antonio had claimed, Gilbert thought he was far better – they let him on the team.

_Arthur was running up the pitch now too, in case Gilbert didn't get to the ball in time. But Gilbert could feel energy pulsing through him; he had to get this ball! And, yes! He'd got it! He teased it into the inside of his boot and slammed it once again into the net. The other team's goalie was good, it was the final after all, but he'd been put off by letting in Antonio's goal just minutes before and he missed the ball by miles._

And so they had got their unbeatable team, 'Team Awesome' as Mathias and Gilbert had so fondly dubbed it, they only played all together that one year though, because the next year Mathias went into the higher age category and by the time Arthur was in that category to play with them, Mathias was out of school.

_Gilbert was ecstatic, there was no way the other team could win now and it would take them a miracle to equalise. Emmanuel__, the goal keeper, looked slightly disgruntled, but determined, as he threw the out wider this time, to Steve, the opposition's speedy striker. But speed was nothing against Mathias, who tackled him immediately and passed the ball to Arthur, there was no way he could score now, but he ran towards Emmanuel once more anyway, even if just to keep the ball out of their half._

_Then the whistle blew, as the shrill noise reached Gilbert's ears he felt Antonio glomp him and Francis was crying tears of joy, Arthur was telling him to stop being such a sissy, but he looked on the verge of tears too. Mathias promptly ran to the crowd shouting, "We won! We actually fucking won!" and grabbed his Norwegian friend – Lukas, was it? - pulling him into a tight hug, "You have to go out with me now."_

_Lukas pushed him away, "No way, that wasn't the deal." But Gilbert could see a small smile playing on his lips._

_Suddenly, Gilbert felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the cold December weather. Antonio had let go of him now to go hug Francis so he turned around, behind the cheering kids in uniform and even a few teachers wrapped in coats was a tall man, he had pale hair and a large scarf around his neck, his purple eyes seemed to bore right into Gilbert. The elation he had felt just moments before vanished and he suddenly felt quite exposed._

_The man waved, Gilbert checked behind him but no one else had seemed to notice the stranger, he was standing slightly in shadow and there was a thin fog so that was hardly surprising. But that meant that the man was waving at Gilbert and he was pretty sure he didn't know him. He shuddered and turned back around; Arthur was grinning and running towards him, "Come on! We're getting a picture!" _

_The moment passed and the feeling of elation returned, Gilbert ran to join his friends. Mathias was shouting, "I'm so proud of you guys! So proud!" There was a buzz in the air that no one could ignore, even the other team seemed to have accepted thei defeat well; Marianne was happily congratulating Antonio, Lars was jokily claiming that he went easy on him and the brothers from down under, Steve and Hugh, were comforting a slightly down Emmanuel, who probably felt responsible for their loss. For now, all thoughts of the man with the scarf were erased from Gilbert's mind._

_The match had been held in the last two periods of school, most of the matches had been at lunch times but the teachers knew how much people enjoyed the final, so they made it a bit more special. That meant that people were heading home now, Mathias grinned, "If we didn't have an eleven year old on our team, I'd take you all out for drinks right now."_

_Gilbert laughed, "Believe me, I was drinking long before I was eleven, but I've got to get home, my brother will want to know whether we won or not." He strolled back into the school to pick up his school bag, people patting him on the back and congratulating him as he went. Eventually, he got to his form room, slung his bag on his back and headed back outside._

_The front field was starting to clear now as everyone headed home, Gilbert always walked home alone unless he was going to Francis' or Antonio's place. It was near enough anyway and his dad had to pick up Ludwig. Usually he didn't mind so much, but today he felt slightly on edge and he couldn't work out why until he noticed the man from earlier, now standing near the entrance to the school._

_Gilbert planned to blend into the crowd to get out, but he had wasted time getting his bag, so there wasn't much of a crowd to speak of. He bit his lip and headed towards the entrance, he could feel the man staring at him. Once he got nearer he looked up slightly, the man smiled and indicated for Gilbert to come towards him. Gilbert looked around but nobody took any notice, to them it probably looked like a relative coming to pick him up after watching him play._

_He carried on walking but he couldn't help keep glancing at the man, whose expression darkened slightly as he indicated for Gilbert to go to him again._

_Gilbert was frightened, who the hell was this guy? But maybe his dad had just sent someone to pick him up because he thought that Gilbert would be tired after the match, it was unlikely, but it was possible. That thought drove him to walk over to the man. He smiled. Gilbert shuddered._

"_I was watching you play football earlier." He said as Gilbert drew near, "You're very good."_

_Gilbert wasn't sure what to say, so he just nodded._

"_Are you going to tell me your name?"_

"_Gilbert."_

_The man reached out one of his hands and stroked it down Gilbert's face. It was ice cold. "You're very pretty Gilbert."_

_By now, Gilbert knew that his dad had certainly not sent this man, and knew he should run as fast and as far away as possible, but he was frozen to the spot. The man's expression darkened and his voice lowered slightly from the shrill, child-like tone it had been at first, "It is polite, to ask someone's name when they have asked for yours, __д__a?"_

"_Wh-What's your name?"_

_The man grinned again, "Good boy! I'm Ivan." His hand was now lightly stroking Gilbert's hair, "You have such white hair, like snow." He traced his hand down Gilbert's face again until it was underneath his chin, he lifted Gilbert's face – fuck, he was strong – so that he forced Gilbert's eyes to meet his, "And such red eyes," He added smiling, "Like blood."_

_Thankfully, the man's phone rang and he let go of Gilbert's face. Gilbert swayed on the spot slightly, he could feel himself shaking, he wanted to run, but he was scared that the man might catch up with him so he simply stayed where he was as the man, Ivan, answered his phone._

"_Дa__?"_

_He went silent for a little, obviously whoever was on the other side of the line had a lot to say. Ivan's expression changed to a childish pout, "Awww, really? But  
>I'm having fun!" <em>

"…"

_He sighed, "Fine, I'll be there." He put the phone back inside his coat and looked back at Gilbert, "I have to go, maybe another time, __д__a?"_

_Gilbert dreaded to think what meant by that as he watched the man leave. He still didn't move at first but then a teacher saw him and smiled, "Great playing today Gilbert!"_

_Gilbert smiled half-heartedly back, "Thanks, sir!" And he headed off home, he checked to see if Roderich was around when he passed the courtyard they often met, but he had a piano exam today, so he doubted it and nothing but a couple of pigeons occupied their usual place._

_So he trudged home alone, checking to see if the man was behind him every few seconds. Eventually, he broke into a run until he got home where he tried to forget the meeting with Ivan and instead focus on the day's football match, which now felt like a lifetime ago, to keep his little brother happy._

Gilbert stared at the picture, so that had been the day that he had first met Ivan the day all of this had started. The boys' smiles no longer seemed cheerful and proud but malicious, taunting. He ripped the picture off the board and threw it face down on the bed.

He ran back to his own room, jumped onto his bed and opened the laptop, hoping it may be able to distract him. Antonio had obviously forgotten to turn his laptop off the last time he had used it as the screen came to life immediately and and a website called 'Facebook' flashed up.

'Antonio Fernandez Carriedo' was written in the top left corner, next to a small picture of him and Lovino. In the middle of the page, various names were written with sentences after them, presumably written by the people whose names they were written under.

Gilbert pulled himself off the bed and ran downstairs with the laptop; he headed into the lounge where Lovino and Antonio were still working.

"Antonio! Is this important or can I get rid of it?" Gilbert said as he thrust the laptop in his friend's face.

Antonio groaned, "You haven't fraped me have you?"

Gilbert was mortified, "I haven't WHAT you?"

"Fraped me"

When the horrified look that Gilbert knew was evident on his face didn't fade, Antonio explained, "Fraping, it's when you hack someone's Facebook and post a really awful status or change their relationship status or something."

Gilbert nodded, relaxing slightly, "Well, no, I haven't fraped you then. I don't even know what this Facebook thingy is."

Antonio looked horrified now and even Lovino looked up from his work.

"You don't know what Facebook is? Man, that's really sad." The young Italian said.

Antonio shook his head in disbelief, "That explains why I couldn't find you then, I tried searching for you, I even tried 'Awesome Beilschmidt', it seemed like the kind of thing you'd call yourself…But, dude, Facebook! It's only the biggest social networking site there is."

"Right, like myspace?"

"Kinda, but not so music-based."

Gilbert was beginning to feel self-conscious, Antonio was still staring at him.

"What?"

"I just can't believe you don't know what Facebook is. You're freaking me out a bit, Gil, it's like you've been dead for eight years and now you're suddenly back alive."

"Yeah, 'cause that makes perfect sense."

"Whatever, you should totally make an account, it's a good way to connect with people ya used to know."

"Awesome, I'll get round to it, I wanna do some other stuff right now though."

Antonio handed the laptop back to him, "Feel free to navigate away from the page, or logout or whatever, I can get back to it easily."

Gilbert accepted the laptop from Antonio and headed back upstairs, he nudged open the door of his room, strode over to the edge of his bed, sat down and turned his attention back to the laptop.

He found his way onto Google and searched for 'British Prime Minister', apparently it was some guy called David Cameron, from the conservative party. _ Probably a rich-ass snob then_ thought Gilbert, moving the cursor back to the search bar to type 'Can you marry your step-brother?'

Some people had evidently wondered this before as there was a link to someone asking the same question on some question and answer website. He clicked it and read the highest-rated answer:

'Yes. But it might be awkward.' Gilbert grinned; he would have to tell Ludwig that.

He returned to Google but he couldn't think what the hell he could actually search for, he had probably missed a lot over the last eight years but he didn't really know where to start. He sighed and closed the laptop; he would make a Facebook account another time, right now he wasn't in the mood to be bombarded with more questions about where he had been. But he did miss some of his old friends, meeting up with Mathias and Arthur again would be awesome, so he would have to make an account sometime soon.

He placed the laptop on the floor by his bed and lay down, getting some more sleep probably wouldn't hurt. The exhaustion he hadn't realised he was feeling washed over him as he fell asleep immediately.

_He was sitting cross-legged in a chair, a heavy book open in his lap. Ivan allowed him some freedoms and Gilbert had quickly learnt that reading was a good way to distract himself and stay out of Ivan's way. Most of the books in the house were written in Russian and the few that were in English were pretty much communist propaganda, but at least it was _something_ to do._

_He hadn't realised at first that Ivan had walked into the room but then the door closed loudly and Gilbert slammed the book shut in surprise. He looked up, Ivan was smiling his usual creepy smile, Gilbert could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and a feeling of dread engulfed him as Ivan's smile morphed into a frown._

_He strode over to Gilbert and leant down so their eyes were level. Gilbert could feel his breathing speeding up and tried to calm it so that he wouldn't appear frightened. Ivan reached out a hand and poked Gilbert's forehead, "What's that?"_

_Gilbert, confused, slowly raised his own hand to feel the point that Ivan's hand had touched. "Um, I think it's just a spot or something."_

_Ivan's frown deepened, "Well, it ruins your face."_

_Gilbert rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting where he was, "I'm a teenager, it's hardly uncommon for – argh!" Ivan had struck him across the face, _hard_, and he spoke with his dark, low tone._

"_Don't answer back, Gilbert."_

_Gilbert turned his head back so that he was facing Ivan, whose expression seemed to lighten slightly as he returned to his child-like voice, he looked at the mark he had made on Gilbert's cheek, "And now it's even more ruined!"_

_Gilbert bit his lip, he wanted to scream at Ivan, point out that he was the one who had done it, but he knew he would just end up in trouble, and it would be far worse than just being struck across the face. He stayed quiet, therefore, and simply held eye contact. Ivan opened he mouth to speak again._

"Bonjour!"

_Huh? That wasn't right, that wasn't even his voice, that was-_

The front door slamming shut woke Gilbert up properly and he heard Antonio welcoming Francis home. So it had been a dream, he wasn't back at Ivan's, he breathed a sigh of relief.

**It may be a while before I upload Chapter 4, I have started it though! (only about a page a half, but it's still something ^^')**

**Oh, and sorry for my crappy writing of the football match, I hate sport with a passion XD**

**Roderich and Elisaveta will definately be mentioned next chapter, and may make an appearance, but that may not be until Chapter 5, but I promise once they're in it, they'll be in it a lot! In case you didn't guess, 'Emmanuel' is Cameroon, 'Steve' is Australia and 'Hugh' is New Zealand.  
><strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Trust

**A/N: This chapter is slightly shorter than the others, sorry about that, I'll make sure the next one is nice and long! **

**Also, apologies for the insane amount of flashbacks in this fanficiton, but it's very much about reminiscing and making amends, so I feel it's relevant :3 I won't flashback nearly as much, if at all, in my other fics.**

**Warning: Some violence/gore in this chapter**

Now that he was awake, he didn't suppose he would get back to sleep easily so he got out of bed. His body was coated in a thin layer of sweat, he considered having a shower, but sussed that Francis and Antonio probably wouldn't care much.

He trudged downstairs, but stopped halfway; Francis and Antonio were talking in hushed tones, Francis looked worried as Antonio nodded at something he was saying. Gilbert cleared his throat; Francis shut up immediately and glanced guiltily up at him.

"You guys have a habit of talking about me behind my back, huh?" Gilbert remarked.

Antonio looked at Francis, obviously expecting him to say something. Francis threw Antonio a look before turning back to Gilbert, "Fine, I will say it to your face, but first, I need a glass of wine and a comfortable sofa!"

Antonio headed into the kitchen, probably to get Francis his wine. Gilbert headed into the lounge with Francis as Antonio called out, "You want anything to drink, Gilbert?"

"Yeah, I wouldn't mind some beer!" He called back, falling into an armchair, Francis sat down on the sofa and swung his left leg over his right dramatically.

Antonio walked into the room, a can of Budweiser in one hand, two empty glasses in the other and a bottle of wine balanced under his arm.

He threw the can over to Gilbert before placing the glasses on the coffee table and filling them with wine. He picked up one of the glasses and relaxed on the sofa next to Francis.

"So what's the deal?" Gilbert asked, opening the can of beer, "What were you whispering about?"

"We were discussing where you've been."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "As usual." He took a swig of beer. Oh my god. He had forgotten how good beer tasted, he hadn't had any whilst he was with Ivan, he never even saw any in the house. Before he knew it, he had drained the whole can.

"Do you have more beer?" He asked.

Antonio grinned, "Gilbert is back!" He called as he went into the kitchen to fetch another can.

Francis continued talking, "Antonio and I were wondering whether you'd been in a coma. Apparently you didn't know what Facebook was, literally no one 'as seen you for years and you're acting kind of reclusive."

Gilbert was trying hard not to laugh, "Well I suppose it's better than Antonio's earlier theory of 'you died and came back to life' but no, I haven't been in a coma, I wrote a letter, remember? I couldn't exactly plan going into a coma."

Antonio walked back in the room and threw the second can to Gilbert. Gilbert caught and opened it before turning his attention back to Francis, "And that's all you were saying? Nothing else?"

Francis smiled, "Nothing else, honest."

Gilbert nodded and was about to start drinking his second can of beer when he froze and looked at it, then back at his friends, "You haven't put anything in this have you?"

They both looked baffled. "Like what, exactly?" Francis asked.

"I dunno, a drug or something."

"Um, Gilbert, it was a sealed can" Antonio pointed out.

"Oh yeah, ignore me."

Antonio sighed, "How come you don't trust us, Gil?"

Trust. That wasn't something he found easy, he was mistrusting of anyone who had walked through Ivan's door, they were almost always in cahoots with Ivan, he couldn't say anything to them. The only two people he had come close to trusting were Ivan's older sister, Yekaterina and his doctor, Toris Loriniatis.

Ivan simply telling his sister to stop talking to Gilbert had worked ending that friendship, if it could be called as such. Yekaterina may have been nice, but she cared deeply for her brother, and would do most anything he asked.

Toris had more of a backbone, Ivan couldn't just tell him to stop talking to Gilbert, he needed to talk to him; he was his doctor. So Ivan had gone to more extreme methods to break their trust.

_He should have known something was going to go wrong from the start, really. Toris was usually only called if he was needed, a broken limb, perhaps, or a particularly deep cut._

_But this time, apparently, was just a 'check-up'. Gilbert strolled into the kitchen, it was always where he saw Toris, it would probably be more useful to see him in a room with a bed or comfortable chair of some sort, but Gilbert's comfort was hardly Ivan's first priority._

_Toris smiled at Gilbert as he entered, "Hi, how are you feeling?"_

_Gilbert could feel Ivan's steady gaze on him and knew what his answer had to be, "Fine."_

_Toris nodded, but the worried look on his face showed that he understood it was quite the opposite, "Ivan just wanted me to check that you were, um, okay." He shot Gilbert a puzzled look, so he must have not understood what was going on either._

_Gilbert walked into the middle of the room and sat on a stool whilst Toris finished preparing his medical equipment. "Right, I'll check your blood pressure first then, could you take your jumper off?"_

_He did so without complaint, he knew that Toris wouldn't hurt him, he was a doctor, he was just trying to help and he pushed the creeping thought that the young man worked for such a sicko to the back of his mind. He couldn't help thinking the trust he felt for him had a lot to do with the fact that his father was a doctor. Gilbert felt a small pain in his chest at the thought of his father but quickly shook it off, he would probably never see him again anyway._

"_Okay, 122 over 70, that's normal." Toris's voice brought him back to the room. "I'm going to take some of your blood now, it might hurt, but only for a second." Gilbert nodded and noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ivan had dropped his gaze from him and seemed to be looking for something in a drawer._

_Toris sprayed some weird cold liquid onto his arm and picked up the needle. Gilbert looked back to Ivan, who was walking towards Toris. He was holding a clear bottle and a small box but due to his abnormally large hands, Gilbert couldn't tell the contents of either object. _

"_All done." Toris explained as he started pouring the blood into various different bottles._

_Suddenly, Ivan dropped the items he had been holding into Toris's lap, the young doctor flinched slightly and splashed a small bit of Gilbert's blood onto the floor. He cursed quietly before turning to the items in front of him, Gilbert followed his gaze and felt his blood run cold._

_The bottle was a quarter full of a clear liquid and Gilbert didn't need to read the Russian on the label to know that it was vodka, it seemed to be all Ivan drank. The small box was a match box, which Toris had shakily lifted up._

"_Ivan…" he said slowly, "Why did you give me these?"_

_Ivan had grinned widely, "Oh, I think we both know the answer to that Toris."_

_Toris shook his head and moved the bottle of vodka and the matchbox to the side before turning to Ivan, "I may be you employee, but I won't do your dirty work for you."_

_Ivan's eyes flashed dangerously, he indicated that Toris should walk towards him. Toris did so, but his head was raised and he had a defiant look on his face. I van leaned down and started whispering something in his ear. Gilbert strained to hear but Ivan could make his voice inhumanly soft when he wanted to, Gilbert couldn't catch a word._

_What he did notice, however, was the look of utter horror that had appeared on Toris's face. Ivan pulled back, a small smile playing on his lips. Toris turned to Gilbert, "I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry." He walked over to the side and ppicked up the bottle and the box. He stared down at them, and then at Ivan, who inclined his head towards Gilbert and mouthed something._

_Toris came back over to gilbert, who could feel himself shaking, he tried to breathe deeply, but it didn't help. Fuck. He hated looking weak, especially in front ovf Ivan. Toris was mumbling the word 'sorry' over and over again and his eyes were moist._

"_Gilbert." He said softly, "Lie on the floor, on your front."_

_Gilbert knew he should resist, run away, at least say something, but Ivan's gaze was once again fixed on him and he knew after four years of taking Ivan's shit that if he did anything against Ivan's wishes, he would only be hurt more. He got off his chair, when Toris said, "Wait!"_

_Gilbert glared at him, "Yes?"_

_Toris squirmed under Gilbert's stare, "You should take you top off too."_

_He nodded and did so, but kept his eyes glaring at Toris the whole time; he would _never_ forgive him for doing this to him. He threw the top to the floor and felt something cold on the back of his neck, it was Ivan's hand, and it was closely followed by his breath – unusually cold for a human – on Gilbert's ear, "You should learn to follow orders _quickly_, Gilbert."_

_He was slammed to the floor with immense force, he felt his teeth uncomfortably clash together and the taste of blood filled his mouth; he must have bitten his tongue accidentally._

"_Ivan! That was unnecessary." He heard Toris say._

"_Oh, I'm sorry Toris, I didn't realise that this was _your _house, I didn't realise that _you_ decided what was necessary." Ivan didn't raise his voice when he said it, but a dangerous edge was present in his innocent tone. _

_Toris mumbled back, "Sorry Ivan."_

_Gilbert heard footsteps shuffling closer and looked towards the direction that they were coming from to see Toris crouched down next to him, he had restarted his constant 'sorry's again as he unscrewed the cap of the vodka bottle. Gilbert turned away from Toris and tried to divert his attention, think of anything but this, he racked his brain for a happy memory as he felt cold liquid pouring unevenly onto his back._

Roderich was giving him a quizzical stare as Gilbert spoke to him, "And then you'll never guess what Francis said-"

"Gilbert." Roderich finally interrupted.

"No! He didn't say 'Gilbert'"

"No, no, that's not what I meant, you fool, I was just trying to catch your attention."

Gilbert frowned, "Were you listening to a word I was saying? Were you ignoring his awesome highness?"  
>Roderich rolled his eyes, "Well, could your awesome highness please inform your loyal subject as to why a bird is perched on your head?"<p>

_He heard the match box being picked up, but squeezed his eyes shut and continued to try to think about the time he got Gilbird._

"What?"

"Gilbert. There. Is. A. Bird. Sitting. On. Your. Head."

"There's a bird sitting on my head?"

Roderich sighed, exasperated, "That is what I said."

Gilbert reached up to his head and pulled the small, yellow bird out of his hair.

"Holy shit. It's awesome!"

"It's a chicken, Gilbert. Grow up."

"How dare you! How dare you insult…" He looked at the bird and screwed up his face momentarily "…Gilbird!"

"You're not seriously calling it that are you?"

"Duh." He said and placed it back on his head.

Roderich gasped, "You're keeping it?"

"Yup."

"Won't your Dad get mad?"

Gilbert gave him a very disbelieving look, "Really? He won't even notice."

_He heard the match being drawn across the side of the box, and although he knew it took mere seconds, to Gilbert it felt like a lifetime. He tried to turn his attention back to his memories but he couldn't for the life of him remember what had happened next._

_Suddenly, without warning, Gilbert felt heat flood his back. Now warm, pleasant heat, but a burning excruciating pain, even if he had remembered the rest of his conversation with Roderich, there was no way he could have used that memory to distract himself from the sheer torture he was in._

_He cried out and could feel tears and beads of sweat rolling into one as they streamed down his face. He looked up and could see the shadow of his head dancing on the cupboard that he had landed in front of when Ivan threw him to the floor as the fire ate its way further and further into his already abused back._

_The smell of burning reached his nostrils, than a far more unpleasant smell; burning _flesh_. _His _flesh. He could feel his stomach turn at that, threatening to throw up its contents._

_He was still screaming, still sobbing, but it was becoming weaker and his vision had began to fade in and out._

_Toris's voice just about reached his ears over the roaring fire. "Ivan! He's going to die at this rate! We need to put it out!"_

"_Aww, but he looks so _funny_ like that."_

"_Ivan! I'm not joking; he'll die if we don't stop it soon."_

"_Fine, put it out."_

_Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief, he had been holding on to hear what Ivan would say but now he couldn't for any longer as his vision faded completely and the last thing he felt was cool water hitting is damaged back._

_Light streamed through the small window in Gilbert's room, highlighting Toris's worried face._

_Gilbert blinked up at him a few times before saying, "Fuck you." His words sounded slow, clumsy._

_Toris smiled weakly at him, "You're on quite a few painkillers at the moment." He pointed at Gilbert's right hand, "I've been giving them to you through a cannula in your hand."_

_Gilbert ignored him and repeated, "Fuck you." Toris looked down at his lap as Gilbert continued, "I thought I could trust you, I thought there may actually be one person in this bleeding world who really wanted to help me out of this mess, but you're just the same as every other piece of scum that Ivan associates with."_

_Toris didn't raise his head but said quietly, "Be careful, you'll damge your back even more if you move."_

_Gilbert glared at him, "Oh don't worry, I'm pretty aure you've already fucked up my back completely."_

_Toris shook his head, "With the right amount of rest and treatment, your back will be fine. It'll leave a scar, sure, but it won't hurt and you'll be able to walk."_

_Gilbert didn't know what to say to that and there was silence for a long time until Toris murmured, "I didn't want to do it." He said it in a quiet whisper, barely audible, but Gilbert heard it and snarled, "But you did, Dr. Loriniatis."_

_Toris winced slightly at the use of his title, they had previously always been on a first name basis._

_He finally looked up from his lap, "Gilbert, I'm going to give you a scenario, you may still hate me afterwards, but you really need to understand why I did it."_

_Gilbert glared, "Fine, but don't expect any sympathy from me."_

_Toris glanced at the bandages around Gilbert's waist, "I don't, I only hope you understand."_

_He breathed deeply and looked directly at Gilbert, "Ivan's keeping you hereby threatening someone close to you, right?"_

_Gilbert's eyes widened, "How do you-?"_

_Toris held up a hand to silence him, "He's doing the same to me. Now imagine that person, are they a family member?"_

_Gilbert frowned, "One of them is, my brother."_

"_Okay, well imagine Ivan told you that you either had to hurt me or he would hurt your brother. Would you hurt me?"  
>Gilbert hesitated for a second, "Are we talking about before you did this to me?"<em>

_Toris nodded._

"_I'd hurt you." Gilbert said bluntly._

_Toris nodded again, "Exactly, even if you didn't want to. I never wanted ti hurt you Gilbert, honest, but the person Ivan's threatening to keep me working for him means the world to me."_

_The anger Gilbert had been feeling towards Toris started to ebb. He had a point; however horrible what toris had done to him was, Gilbert knew he would have done exactly the same if Roderich or Ludwig were in danger._

"_Who is it?"  
>Toris smiled, "My lover, he's called Feliks, he's very dear to me, but he's a bit um…" Toris laughed sheepishly, "…He's not the smartest, and he's not very logical, I van could easily hurt him because he'd fall for his bait before he even set it."<em>

_Gilbert snorted as Toris checked his watch, "I should be getting home to him now actually, but I'll check on you tomorrow."_

_Jealously overwhelmed Gilbert at Toris's mention of going home and it must have shown on his face because Toris smiled apologetically down at him from his now standing position, "I wish I could help you, I really do, but Ivan has far too much control over me."_

_Gilbert nodded and Toris headed towards the door, just as he was a about to leave, he turned around, "If, by some miracle, you don't hate me, don't act that way when Ivan's around."_

_Gilbert shot him a puzzled look, "Why?"_

"_He did this so you would hate me; he's trying to make it so you have no one to turn t, if he sees that this hasn't worked…he'll probably do something worse."_

_Gilbert laughed bitterly, "He can do worse?"_

_Toris put his finger to his lips, "Ssh, he'll be home soon."_

_Gilbert scowled, "This isn't home."_

_Toris threw him one last apologetic look before leaving the room and heading outside._

"I'm sorry." Gilbert said, "I do trust you, I just…I've had a few too many drinks spiked." He lied.

"Really?" Francis asked.

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, but I found out before I drank the damn things."

Eventually, the conversation veered away from Gilbert, and he was extremely grateful. However much he loved himself, he really wanted to know more about his friends' lives since he had been gone.

By early morning, Francis and Antonio were singing at the top of their voices, drunk out of their minds. Many years ago, Gilbert would have joined in, but even though he knew that there was no way that Francis or Antonio could have touched his drink before he opened it, he hadn't touched his second can of beer.

He stood up and yawned, "I'm exhausted, I'm going to head off to bed."

Antonio looked at him, "Que? What time is it?"

"It's about 2 o'clock."

Antonio jumped up, his eyes wide, "Fuck, I have work in the morning!"

Francis and Gilbert laughed as Antonio ran upstairs, Gilbert followed him, "Night, Francis."

"Ah, bonne nuit Gilbert, unless you'd rather spend ze night with me," he added, winking, "I'm kidding! No need to look so 'orrified! I'm not zat bad!" He laughed as he walked into his bedroom.

Gilbert entered his room and walked to his bed, trying to avoid the laptop in the dark. He lay down and braced himself for the nightmares he knew would come.

* * *

><p>Much to Gilbert's dismay, he was woken early in the morning by Antonio noisily getting ready for work.<p>

Disgruntled, he trudged slowly downstairs, poured himself a bowl of cheerio's and sat down at the dining room table to eat them.

Antonio ran down and Gilbert almost choked on his cereal, "Dude! You're wearing a suit! You actually have a proper job?"

Antonio grinned at him as he picked up the post, "Yup, I'm training to be a teacher. By July, I'll be fully qualified."

"Cool." Gilbert remarked before going back to his breakfast. Antonio was now flicking through the post, "Bills, more bills, junk and…oooh~ a wedding invitation!"

Gilbert looked up, "Whose wedding?"

"Just some friends of mine, I don't think you know them. I work with the bride, but it was the groom I met first actually." He laughed as he put the invitation in the kitchen, "I met him in a gay bar."

Gilbert laughed, "Does she know?"

"Who? His fiancée? Probably. She, er, she has a thing for gay and bisexual men." Antonio walked out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee and sat down with Gilbert. "What she _doesn't_ know though, is that I've slept with him. Although, then again, she probably wouldn't mind all that much."

Gilbert laughed again, "Priceless, doesn't that make it really awkward between you two though?"

"Nah, he just pretends it never happened…But I bet he dreams about me naked."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "I wouldn't count on it mate."

Antonio stood up, started heading towards the door and stopped, pointing at his ass, "'Dat ass is offended. Anyway, I should probably be off" He picked up a bag by the front door, "I'm gonna be late for work at this rate, and I wouldn't want to miss all those children." He winked at Gilbert, "Adios!"

"Ciao!" Gilbert replied.

As Antonio left the house, Francis emerged from his bedroom, looking far less cheerful, "'Ow come I seem to 'ave a permanent 'angover?" He grumbled as he slouched into the kitchen. Gilbert grinned and followed him, "Maybe you should stop drinking so much." He said, placing his now empty bowl next to the sink amongst many other pieces of dirty crockery. Gilbert got the impression that Francis and Antonio didn't clean up very often.

"Pfft. That's coming from you?"

"Well, if you hadn't noticed, I didn't get completely pissed last night."

"Hmm, zat is true, 'ow come? I always thought you were very fond of beer."

But Gilbert wasn't listening; next to all the dirty crockery was a piece of card with a picture on it. The people in the picture looked so familiar, but it couldn't be…

**You may have noticed that Gilbert said 'Ciao' in this chapter; that's not just me going loony**, **German people use the word 'ciao' quite a lot~**

**Also, sorry for using the whole 'overhearing conversation about oneself' scenario, I watch far too much 'Verbotene Liebe' :'D (it's a German soap)**

**Reviews make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside, so please review! X3  
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	5. Chapter 5: Goodbyes

**A/N: For the benefit of my foreign readers, I'm going to explain a couple of things about the English schooling system that will be relevant in this chapter and later chapters. **

**Okay, first of all, from the ages of 4 to 11, we go to 'primary school' (so that's elementary school for the Americans, I believe).**

**Then from the ages of 11-16(compulsory)/18(not compulsory, but most people stay until they're 18) we go to secondary school.**

**There are a few different types of secondary school; I'm going to explain the ones that are relevant to this fic, although there are more. **

**A comprehensive school is basically your average school, you don't have to pass an exam to get in, just live in the required catchment are. (Gilbert, Antonio etc. went to a comprehensive school)**

**A grammar school is a school that you must pass an exam to get into. Commonly, grammar schools are one-gender schools, but not always. I go to a mixed-sex grammar school~ (Ludwig, Feliciano etc. went to a boys' grammar school)**

**A private school is a school that you generally have to pass an exam to get into and you have to pay extortionate fees for. Even more commonly than grammar schools, private schools are one-gender institutions (Roderich, Vash etc. went to a boys' private school and Elisaveta, Lily(Liechtenstein)etc. went to a girls' private school)**

**Oh and our exams are called GCSEs and A levels, GCSEs we take in years 9/10/11 and A levels we take in the sixth form(that's the last two years of school) or college. (There are other types of qualifications, such as B-techs, but they won't be relevant to this story~)**

_Dear Antonio Fernandez Carriedo_

_and Lovino Vargas_

_You are hereby invited to the wedding of_

_Elisaveta Hedervary_

_and_

_Roderich Edelstein_

_on the 8__th__ of June, 2011_

The writing was in fancy gold lettering and printed onto a cream background. Next to the writing was the picture that had drawn Gilbert's attention to the invitation in the first place.

Roderich looked incredibly similar, if slightly less skinny, to the last time he had seen him, the day that Gilbert had disappeared to live with Ivan.

_ He and Roderich were sitting in their usual spot, a small courtyard near to Gilbert's school that they had been meeting in since year 7. Gilbert was sprawled out on a bench and Roderich was seated upright, reading through his teacher's notes on his latest piece of music for his A level course._

_Gilbert looked at him and shook his head, "You're not seriously doing homework, are you? It's the first day of the half term: chill!"_

_Roderich sighed, "Unlike you, Gilbert, some of us actually want to do well in life."_

"_I do want to do well in life! I just have my own, awesome, way of going about it."_

"_And what would this 'awesome' way entail?" Roderich asked, putting his notation paper away in his school bag and turning his full attention to Gilbert._

_Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows and grinned, "I've got my driving test tomorrow."_

"_Is this part of your not failing at life, or did you just get sidetracked?"_

"_Er, a little bit of both."_

_Roderich sighed again and pushed his glasses up his nose, but he seemed to be smiling, "And how do you know you'll pass?"_

"_Because the word 'fail' isn't in my vocabulary…Unless I'm laughing at someone else."_

"_Well, good luck then."_

"_Pfft, don't need it. But, hey, you know what this means, right? I'll be able to drive tomorrow?"_

_Roderich blinked at him, "Er, yes, what of it?"_

_ "We should totally go somewhere!" Gilbert exclaimed, raising his arms dramatically into the air._

_ Roderich sat up a little straighter, looking rather interested, "Where did you have in mind?"_

_ "I dunno, I'll probably make it up on the spot, it's half term, it's not like we haven't got a whole week of larking about and avoiding coursework ahead of us."_

_ Roderich seemed quite excited now, "Could we go to London? I've always wanted to go there again, Daddy took me as a young boy, to see a concert." He had quite a dazed look on his face now._

_ Gilbert grinned, "Sure, London would be fun."_

_ Roderich stood up, "I'd better go and start preparing then." He turned to Gilbert, "You'd better pass that exam!"_

"_I will!" Gilbert laughed as Roderich picked up his bag and swung it over his shoulder. He turned back to Gilbert again, "When should I meet you tomorrow?"_

"_Well, my exams late morning…would three be cool?"_

_Roderich nodded, "And we're meeting here, right?"_

"_Duh." _

_Roderich looked like he was about to walk away, but at the last second, he leaned down and kissed Gilbert._

_He hadn't been expecting it, and Gilbert almost pulled away, but he was pushed against the bench and Roderich pulled away quite quickly, flushed red, mumbled "Bye" and ran off._

_Gilbert watched him leave. _Fuck_, he thought. It wasn't that he didn't want to be kissed by Roderich. Hell, he _really _liked him, not that he would ever admit that. But the familiar feeling of being watched had enveloped Gilbert as he had sat talking to his friend._

_Sure enough, Ivan was now walking towards him from a cluster of nearby trees. Gilbert stood up quickly and swung his own bag over his shoulder. He tried to walk away quickly, pretend he hadn't seen Ivan, but Ivan called out, "Gilbert! It's good to see you."_

'Can't say I feel the same way' _Gilbert thought as he turned artound, hands gripping his bag strap just a little too tightly._

"_You and Roderich are getting close, дa?"_ _Ivan enquired, tilting his head slightly._

"_What of it?" Gilbert snarled back._

_Ivan took one of Gilbert's hands off his bag and held it in his own. He smiled, " You belong to me, дa?"_

_Gilbert pulled his hand away violently and started backing off, "No I don't, Ivan."_

_Ivan sighed mockingly, "Poor young Roderich is so prone to getting lost, isn't he?"  
>Gilbert froze.<em>

"_It'd be such a shame if he were to make a wrong turn and go missing on his way home." _

"_You dare touch him." Gilbert said, his mouth running dry._

"_I'll make you a deal, Gilbert." Ivan smiled, "You come live with me, do everything I ask you to, and I won't lay a finger on pretty little Roderich."_

"_When exactly?" Gilbert said, trying and failing to keep the fear out of his voice._

"_Ooh…__How about__…today?" Ivan said, still in his infuriatingly mocking tone._

"_But what about my family, and my friends? What am I supposed to tell them?"_

_A shadow flashed across Ivan's face, and his tone darkened, "Spare me your sob stories, Gilbert. You can go home now, tell your family that you're going somewhere, I'm sure you can make something up, but it had better be convincing because if anyone starts getting suspicious and comes knocking on my door, you can bet Ludwig won't be around for much longer."_

_Gilbert wanted to hit Ivan; _no one_ hurt his little brother. But he refrained, and simply replied to Ivan in a monotone, "Where should I meet you?"_

"_Here seems like a good spot" Ivan replied. Gilbert tightened his grip on his bag strap so that he wouldn't lash out. This was his and Roderich's spot!_

"_Meet me here in three hours." I van smiled, but there was a malicious undertone to his voice, "I wouldn't be late if I were you." _

Gilbert frowned, why did every damn memory have to be tarnished with Ivan?

He turned to the woman in the picture next to Roderich. Elisaveta. She looked pretty much the same since he last saw her too, albeit older. He had only seen her briefly, when he was sixteen.

_Gilbert ran out of the school gates and lifted his arms into the air so that his blazer flapped out behind him, "I fucking love half days!" He shouted to no one in particular._

_Antonio and Francis walked out after him, laughing._

"_Keep it down!" Antonio said, but his grin betrayed that he didn't mean it. "So, whaddaya wanna do?"_

_Francis smiled, "Zere is a girls' private school not too far from here, and it'll be zere lunchtime at ze moment; we could always go and 'ave a little fun."_

_Lars walked over and placed his hand on Francis's shoulder, "I heard the words 'girls' and 'fun', how old are we talking?"_

_Cowering under Lars' heavy gaze, Francis replied, "zere will be young girls zere, Lars, don't worry. So are you coming along?"_

_Eventually, a group of about ten boys ended up heading towards the school but when they got there, it was Francis who seemed slightly uneasy, "Do you zink we'll get into trouble for zis?"_

"_Probably" Gilbert said as he strutted through the unlocked gates to the school grounds. The school was big, considerably bigger than the comprehensive that he attended and the grounds were huge. Many girls were taking advantage of the warm weather that day and lounging on the front field, watching a group of sixth formers playing rounders._

_As the group of rowdy boys entered, a few girls turned their heads and started giggling amongst themselves. Now surrounded by lots of attractive young girls, Francis seemed to regain his confidence and blew a kiss to one of them._

_The girl smiled and said something to her friends before walking over with them, Gilbert couldn't help noticing that despite the school having a far better reputation than his own, the girls still seemed to wear their skirts half way up their arses._

_Gilbert passed over the first girl without a second glance, she was pretty, sure, with long black hair and tanned skin, but there wasn't really much to her. His eyes were drawn instead to the girl standing at the back of the group, unlike her friends, she wore her skirt at a reasonable length and she wasn't flirting with the boys. In fact, she looked uncomfortable, her boater hat shadowing her bowed head and her feet shuffling from side to side. _

_She looked behind her at the rounders game and then quickly glanced at Gilbert before looking down to her feet again. For some reason, Gilbert felt like he knew her, but he was pretty sure there was no way he had associated with a private school girl, unless she had gone to his primary school. He started shifting through all of the girls he knew at primary school, but none of them even remotely resembled the one standing in front of him._

_And then it hit him._

_He looked back at the girl; his realisation must have shown on his face as when she caught his eye, her eyes went wide and she flushed slightly. She tapped on one of her friends arms and said quietly, "Lily, can we carry on watching the game, I was kind of enjoying it."_

_Lily turned to her, smiling, "I'm sure talking to these gentlemen for a couple of minutes couldn't hurt, Liz."_

_Liz? Was that her name?_

"_Lily, please."_

_Lily sighed, "Elisaveta, what's wrong?"_

_Or not. The girl, Elisaveta, caught Gilbert's eye briefly again, and then turned back to Lily, "Nothing's wrong, I just want to watch them play."_

"_Well go ahead, but I'm staying here."_

_Elisaveta sighed, took one last, fleeting glance at Gilbert and ran back across the field._

_Gilbert stood in shock for a couple of seconds, it was no doubt she was the person he was thinking of, she still ran the same way and her voice, despite being considerably higher was still familiar to him. But the one thing he just couldn't get his head round was that the last time he had met Elisaveta, he was pretty certain that she was a boy._

He stared at the picture for a little while longer; it seemed so weird to see those two together. He had known them both, been very close to them both, but he had known them at different points in his life, to him they were completely separate people, yet here they were, smiling side by side, engaged to each other.

Gilbert turned around; Francis was giving him a puzzled look. Gilbert frowned, "What's up?"

"You were standing zere for quite a while." He said, waving his hand vaguely in Gilbert's direction.

"Was I? Sorry about that, must have spaced out." Gilbert said before relaxing against the kitchen cupboard.

Francis walked over to the sink, placing his empty coffee mug next to the sink. He frowned, "This really needs cleaning."

Gilbert stood up abruptly, "Well, you have fun with that; I've got stuff to do today."

Francis gave him a slightly lost look, "You expect me to clean all of this by myself?"

Gilbert grinned, "Yup, unless you want to leave it that messy for the rest of the day."

Francis stared at the mess and then gasped dramatically, "fine!" He pulled on some marigold gloves, "I shall do ze washing up! But I swear, if you don't start doing some chores soon, Monsieur Beilschmidt, I shall throw you out the house with my soapy hands."

Gilbert grinned, "Doesn't Antonio own the house?"

Francis flicked some water at him and said, "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Right, where's the phone?"

"Zere's a phone in the lounge, on a small table near ze back of the room."

Gilbert thanked his French friend before heading onto the lounge, his legs felt weak as he walked and he couldn't get the wedding invitation out of his mind.

He was planning to call Ludwig to ask him to take him to Fritz's grave, but he didn't make it to the phone before he collapsed onto the sofa. He could feel himself shaking slightly. He stared at the phone and couldn't help thinking that, right now, his life was going absolutely nowhere; he didn't have a job, he barely knew his friends anymore, he didn't really know _how_ to go about getting a job, especially as he had never even finished his A levels.

He felt like crying, but Francis was just in the kitchen, and the walls were quite thin so instead he closed his eyes and wished that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole.

* * *

><p>Eventually, he pulled himself together and rang Ludwig. He was more than happy to take him, especially as Gilbert hadn't been anywhere but his house and Antonio's house since he had left Ivan's.<p>

He waited outside for his brother, enjoying the fresh air on Francis and Antonio's relatively quiet street, I van had never allowed him outside the front door and even now, Gilbert felt like he was doing something wrong. He started to feel uncomfortable and was relieved when his brother turned up relatively soon.

"Hey" Ludwig said as his older brother fell into the seat next to him.

"Hey" Gilbert replied.

"You actually going to wear a seatbelt this time?"

Gilbert frowned, but pulled the seatbelt across himself. Immediately, he felt pinned down, trapped. He reminded himself that the only other person in the car was Ludwig, who probably had no intention of hurting him. It didn't help much, and the fact that he was in a car in the first place was freaking him out a bit, he felt cramped and isolated. He stared out the window, longing to be there.

"Bruder!" Ludwig suddenly shouted and pulled the car to the side of the road.

Gilbert had started hyperventilating, and a worried Ludwig looked on, slightly clueless as to what to do. Gilbert waved his hand, trying to calm his breathing, "I'm…fine." He said, waving his hand to indicate that Ludwig should carry on driving.

"Are you sure?" Ludwig asked, looking entirely unconvinced.

"Yeah, just give me a minute."

The rest of the journey passed without incident, but Ludwig kept sending concerned glances towards his brother, who kept his gaze fixed outside the window the whole time.

When they arrived at the church, Gilbert felt all the heat leave his face, "You have _got_ to be shitting me." He said, staring at the name of the church. Fucking St. Ivan's. He didn't even know there _was_ a St. Ivan.

Ludwig looked at him, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Gilbert mumbled back, stepping out the car.

Ludwig made to join him but Gilbert shook his head, "I'd rather be alone."

His little brother looked for a second like he was going to protest, but decided against it, sitting back down and resting his head back. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and a pen and started drawing something. He handed it over to Gilbert, "That's vaguely the route you take through the graveyard to find his grave."

Gilbert stared down at Ludwig's poorly drawn guide, "To be honest Ludwig, I think I'll find it better _without _this."

In the end, after getting lost a few too many times, Gilbert returned to the front of the graveyard and followed Ludwig's rough guide. He found Fritz's grave easily this time and placed himself down in front of it. He looked around, he would feel a bit stupid talking if other people were around, but the graveyard was completely empty apart from him.

He sighed and looked again at his grandfather's grave. "Hallo," He started, smiling slightly, "I don't know if you can hear me, I kind of gave up on the whole 'God' idea a few years ago, it's hard to believe there's a guy watching over you and protecting you when you spend every day wishing you were dead. But somehow, I hope that you know what I'm saying," He looked up, "I hope _you're_ watching over me." He looked back at the grave, "I'm sorry I never visited you when you were dying," He could feel his voice choking up and his eyes getting slightly wet, "You meant the world to me, großvater, and I really wish i could apologise to your face right now, even if it meant you scolding me." He smiled slightly, but felt tears falling down his face.

Blue cornflowers were growing near to the grave, Gilbert picked some of them up and began to weave them together subconsciously as he spoke, "A lot of stuff has happened since I last saw you...a lot of pretty awful stuff. I don't know whether you'd be proud of me or not, you always said how brave I was." He contorted his face in disgust, "But I was hardly brave when Ivan was involved, I let him do whatever he wanted with me...but I did it to protect Ludwig, that's a good thing, right? "

A cold wind blew, making Gilbert shiver slightly and look around, he half expected Ivan to be there, it was what he always related the cold to, but the graveyard was still completely empty. "I wish I could tell you more, but I'm not really sure I'm ready to accept what happened myself yet... " He stared down into his lap, where his hands were making the cornflowers into a small wreath. He sat for a few minutes in silence before saying, "I'll come back, I promise, and I'll tell you more." He stood up, delicately placing the flowers on the grave, "Gute nacht, der alte Fritz, rest in peace."

He walked back out of the graveyard, past the creepy church and over to Ludwig's car. He opened the door and sat inside, he was sure it must have shown on his face that he had been crying, but Ludwig tactfully said nothing about it and smiled at him.

"Thanks." Gilbert said.

"It's fine." Ludwig replied as he started the engine of the car and pulled away. Most of the return journey they spent in silence until Gilbert remembered something. "Oh, Ludwig, I looked it up last night, it is legal for you to marry Feliciano."

Ludwig almost crashed the car.

"Who said anything about getting married?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was you who brought it up yesterday."

Ludwig was bright red, "I didn't say I was planning to marry him though."

"Awww, but you two look adorable together."

"Say one more word Gilbert, and you can walk home." Ludwig threatened, but he sounded so flustered Gilbert found it hard to take him seriously.

When they got back to Antonio's house, Gilbert thanked Ludwig again and headed inside; he noticed on his way up to the door that another car was parked in front of the drive, it was a small green car that he hadn't seen before.

He assumed someone else must be in the house, and entered cautiously. The door to the living room was closed but Gilbert could hear voices from inside. He glanced in the kitchen briefly, the washing up had only been half completed, Francis must have been interrupted by whoever he was now talking to.

Curious, Gilbert opened the door to the living room. Francis was seated on the same place he had been the night before on the sofa and was listening intently to the man seated on the armchair at the end of the room. Gilbert glanced at the man and smiled; the young, blond man seated there was undoubtedly Arthur Kirkland, the grouchy Brit he had known as a teenager. His smile quickly faded, however, when he noticed how upset Arthur looked.

Francis turned towards Gilbert as he entered the room, "Ah, hello mon ami, I didn't expect you back so soon." Gilbert tried not to snicker as he noticed Francis had forgotten to take his marigold gloves off.

Arthur looked up, his face changing from distraught to surprised, "Bloody hell man, you're still around? I haven't seen you in years!"

Gilbert shrugged and fell onto the couch next to Francis, "I haven't been around for years. Anyway, what's wrong? You look like someone just died." He went quiet for a second, and then quickly added, "No one did die, right? Because otherwise I've just made a really inappropriate comment."

Arthur shook his head, "No one died."

Francis gasped dramatically, "But poor young Arthur feels like dying right now, 'as his 'eart is ripped apart by ze love of is life!"

Arthur gave Francis a rather intense glare, "I didn't say anything about wanting to die, you wanker, and he hasn't 'ripped my heart apart', just kind of trodden all over it."

Gilbert felt a little confused, "Who the hell are we on about?"

Arthur returned to looking miserable, "Alfred."

Gilbert thought for a second, "Your American pen pal?"

"He was, but he moved to England last year and we started getting really close." Arthur sunk lower in the chair, "I thought he liked me, but apparently his over-friendly demeanour, constant flirting and spending almost all of his time with me wasn't because he had a thing for me. Maybe all Americans are just like that."

Gilbert continued carefully, "How'd you find out he doesn't like you?"

Arthur looked like he was about to burst into tears again before he said in a quiet voice, "I tried to kiss him, and he completely freaked out."

Gilbert looked at him incredulously, "And you're asking _Francis_ for advice with your love life?"

Francis threw Gilbert a mock offended look, "It is not like you could offer anyzing better!"

"Fair enough, seeing as the only two people I've ever loved are getting fucking married to each other."

Francis's jaw dropped, "So zat is why you were staring at zat invitation for so long!" He ran off to the kitchen and when he returned, he was holding the cream card in his hand.

He looked at Gilbert, "How do you even know Roderich and Elisaveta?" Before Gilbert could answer, Francis made a little 'hmph' noise before saying, "And why wasn't I invited?"

Arthur smiled slyly, "You weren't invited? What a shame…I was."

Francis pouted and threw the invitation at Gilbert, "You didn't answer my question, how do you know them? They've only really started associating with our group of friends in the last few years, when you were gone."

Gilbert shook his head, "I knew them before that, when I was younger."

Francis raised his eyebrows, "Oh, who knew." He flopped back on the couch, "So we are all unlucky in love it seems."

Arthur groaned, "What if he turns up at my bar tonight?"

"Why would he? If he freaked out when you tried to kiss him, he'll probably try to avoid you." Gilbert pointed out.

Arthur smiled bitterly at him "Gilbert, he lives with me."

"Oh. Damn, that's gonna be awkward."

"You're telling me!" Arthur buried his face in his hands, "Fingers crossed he'll get back really late once I'm already asleep, and then leave early in the morning."

Gilbert glanced at the clock on the wall, it was early afternoon, "Shouldn't you be at your bar right now? It's lunchtime."

Arthur lifted his head and shook it, "I have staff; I've left Mathias in charge… on second thoughts, that's probably not a very good idea."

An idea suddenly came to Gilbert, "Er, Arthur? You don't happen to have any jobs going at your bar? I'm kind of in desperate need of a job; otherwise I'm going to drain my brother of all his money."

Arthur looked surprised, "You don't have a job?" He smiled, "Sure you can work for me, it'd be good to catch up on where you've been too, I haven't seen you in years! Your father used to ask about you a lot, how come you left without telling him where you were going?"

Gilbert started feeling uncomfortable again; must everyone ask so many damn questions? "I'm not a child; my dad doesn't need to know everything I do." It came out a little more aggressively than he had planned and Arthur looked rather taken aback.

"Right, sorry."

Gilbert sighed, "I'm pretty tired, I might go rest, could you wake me when Antonio gets home?"

Francis smiled at him, "Sure." Then he paused. "Gilbert, why are you always so damn tired?"

Gilbert shrugged and headed out the room. When he got to his room he glanced in the mirror, noticing huge bags hanging under his eyes. He made a mental note to buy make-up to cover it up as soon as he had the chance as he curled up on his bed and drifted to sleep.

**Sorry for the very dialogue-heavy chapter! I'll try to have more stuff actually happening next chapter! (And Roderich and Elisaveta will come into it properly, I promise!)**

**Thank you so much to the lovely, lovely people who have reviewed this story so far, it means ever so much to me, and it really makes my day ^.^ I'd really appreciate more reviews, good or bad!**

**I'll try to get chapter 6 soon, but I'm working on other stories and I'd like to get Chapter one of 'A story of Buchenwald' up within the next few days, so you may have to wait a little for me to update this story. (But if it's not updated by next week, you have permission to hunt me down and hit me!)  
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	6. Chapter 6: Bad friends

**A/N: I am so sorry! Roderich's hardly in this Chapter at all, and Elisaveta is only mentioned. *puppy dog eyes* Please forgive me!**

** And Denmark really wasn't supposed to come into it this early…but I love him, ridiculously much. I'm told I act a lot like Denmark…in other words, I'm loud, hyper, part-Danish and spend all day annoying my dear friend Spectreon, who acts just like Norway (she's currently writing a Nordic/Haruhi crossover, if that's your kind of thing, go read it 8D)**

** And finally, before the actual story starts, I would like to say just how grateful I am to everyone who has reviewed this story so far, it means so, so much to me to know that the hard work I'm putting into this story is paying off!**

**EDIT: Ah! Forgot to mention, Antonio teaches Spanish _and_ French, it's quite common for teachers to do so~  
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In the end, Francis didn't need to wake Gilbert up as he was woken once again by Ivan invading his dreams. It was still light outside and it streamed through the top and bottom of his curtains. He squinted at the clock across from his bed; it had gone five. He smiled; he had been able to sleep quite a few hours, more than he had for the last few days at any rate.

He stood out of bed and yawned, stretching his arms out to loosen them up. He headed to the bathroom; he didn't care if Francis and Antonio were impartial to his slight lack of hygiene, he felt disgusting.

He stripped off and caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror. His face twisted as he did and he looked away quickly, not wanting to see the marred mess his body had become.

He turned the shower on and waited a few seconds for it to warm up before stepping under the running water. He winced as it hit his more recent wounds but quickly adjusted to the stinging sensation. After washing his body and hair, he quickly towel-dried himself and got dressed in the bathroom. He had brought clothes with him so as not to bump into Francis, or Arthur is he was still here, when he walked across the hallway to his room wrapped in only a towel.

After hanging up his towel and dumping his clothes in the washing basket, he ran downstairs. His hair was still wet, but it was so short that it would be dry in no time. He walked into the living room, where Francis was sipping wine and watching some boring cooking show.

Gilbert leaned against the doorway and scrutinised his friend, "Do you drink anything but wine?" He asked.

Francis looked up at him, smiling, "Not really, no. I drink coffee in the morning, and then wine for the rest of the day. Life is short, one must enjoy it."

Gilbert snorted and walked over to the armchair that had earlier held Arthur. Francis picked up the remote from the coffee table and muted the television before turning back to Gilbert, "Did you sleep well?" He sounded almost suspicious.

"Better than usual"

"Hmm, then usual must not be very good; you were shouting out."

Gilbert felt a sweat break out over his body, "Shouting out? What was I saying?"

"You weren't saying anything as such, or not intelligible words, there was just a lot of screaming." Francis frowned, "I wish you'd tell us what was wrong."

Gilbert looked away from Francis, "_Nothing_ is wrong, why will no one get that?"

Francis looked like he was about to respond but at that moment the door opened and Antonio barged into the room.

"Hola mis amigos!"

A disgruntled Lovino was standing in the hallway behind him, "English, please Antonio! No one wants to hear your shitty language."

Antonio turned to him, "You're just saying that because you prefer it when I only speak Spanish to you."

Lovino blushed furiously, "That's not true."

Antonio laughed, kissed Lovino on the cheek and turned back to his friends, "Francis, do you mind cooking tonight? I seem to be doing a lot of the cooking lately, and you're supposed to be the chef!"

"Yes, so I have to cook non-stop whilst I am at work!" Francis complained, but he said it in a light-hearted tone and stood up to go the kitchen. Antonio followed Francis into the kitchen and Lovino tagged after him. Gilbert, now feeling a little left out, stood up and headed there too so as not to be lonely.

As Francis cooked the pot-au-feu he had decided on for dinner, Antonio idly talked away to Lovino and Gilbert about his day at work. Gilbert stayed quiet most of the time, but he couldn't help noticing how much Lovino rejected Antonio's constant advances, how _uncomfortable_ he looked. He shook it off, he was probably just over-reacting.

Antonio continued to talk. Lovino continued to squirm. Gilbert just stared.

After a while, he couldn't take it anymore. "Just leave him alone." He said it quietly, almost to himself. But Antonio seemed to hear him and stopped mid-sentence, "Huh? You say something?"

Gilbert waved his hand in the young Italian man's direction, "When he says to leave him alone, leave him." He said, a little louder this time.

Antonio looked puzzled for a second, and then broke out into a grin, "Lovino doesn't mean it when he says that, he loves me really." When he said that last part, he leaned over to Lovino who batted him off.

Gilbert was getting frustrated, "Can't you see he doesn't like it?" He hadn't realised how much he had raised his voice until even Francis stopped to look at him. But he didn't care, he carried on, "When people say 'stop', Antonio, it's generally what they fucking mean! So leave off him already."

Antonio looked slightly shocked, Lovino even more so, he spoke up, "It's alright," He frowned, "I don't mind Antonio being all touchy, I just wish he wasn't so _public_ about it."

Antonio was still silent, and looked slightly offended now by Gilbert's outburst. Gilbert noticed his own breathing starting to get heavy and realised he was going to start hyperventilating again. He threw his hand in the direction of the window; a still stunned Francis appeared to understand him and opened it so that Gilbert could get some fresh air.

It took him a few minutes to calm his breathing, but once he had, he stood up and ran back upstairs to his room, now craving the loneliness that he had rejected such a short while ago.

* * *

><p>Antonio watched his friend leave the room in shock; he'd never seen Gilbert act like that before, ever. He had always been very forward himself as a child. Antonio turned to Lovino again, but this time asked cautiously, "I don't make you feel uncomfortable, do I?"<p>

Lovino shook his head, blushing.

Antonio relaxed and took a different angle, "What the hell is his problem?"

Lovino sighed, "So he actually has his head screwed on, and that means he has a problem now?"

"You're just defending him because he took your side!"

Francis walked over and placed his hand on Antonio's shoulder, "I wouldn't take it personally, Antonio. Gilbert seems pretty troubled about something, I'm sure 'e will tell us what eventually, but for now we should probably try and support 'im, getting annoyed at 'im won't do anyone any good."

Antonio looked up at Francis, "And how do you know he's actually troubled about something? Maybe he's right, maybe nothing is wrong."

Francis shook his head, "you didn't 'ear 'im earlier, when he was sleeping, it wasn't pretty. No man who is not troubled screams like zat."

Antonio sighed heavily and sprawled his arms across the table "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. But he had no need to lash out at me like that."

After eating dinner and taking Lovino home (he still had a lot of university work to finish, so no matter how hard Antonio begged and pleaded, he refused to stay the night), Antonio headed upstairs to his room to mark some test papers. He flopped onto his bed and pulled out the first one, and rummaged around in his bag for the mark scheme. When he couldn't find he it started searching for his laptop, he was pretty sure he had sent it to himself by e-mail in case this very situation happened.

After a few minutes of pointless searching, he remembered that he had lent his laptop to Gilbert the previous day. Feeling slightly uneasy, he headed over to Gilbert's room and opened his door.

* * *

><p>Gilbert was getting changed into suitable clothes for sleeping in when he heard the door open behind him, he hastily pulled the top he was holding on and spun around quickly.<p>

Antonio was standing at his door, a slightly puzzled look on his face, "Who's Ivan Braginski?"

Gilbert felt his blood run cold and he stood there, opening and closing his mouth a few times before eventually getting out, "What?"

"I said 'Who's Ivan Braginski?'; it's tattooed onto your back."

He stood staring at Antonio in shock for a few seconds before running past Antonio and into the bathroom, he closed the door behind him and ripped off his top. He turned around so that his back was facing the mirror and looked over his shoulder. Although in the mirror it looked more like 'iksnigarB navI', Gilbert could see what Antonio was talking about. But the 'tattoo' that his friend had noticed wasn't that at all, the name written above the burn scar that Toris had given him was a brand.

Gilbert thought back to when it happened; it was when he had only been at Ivan's for a couple of months, and he hadn't realised at the time what Ivan had burned into him, hadn't realised that Ivan had actually _written_ something, and not just anything, his name.

He laughed bitterly, it sort of reminded him of the way a schoolgirl would write her name on her pencil case, or iron it into an item of clothing. In a way, that was exactly what Ivan had done. The brand was a nametag, it told people who he belonged to.

He pulled his top back on, feeling sick, and headed back out the room. Antonio was still standing in his doorway, "You alright?"

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, just felt a bit sick and I didn't think you'd want me throwing up all over you."

"So who is he?" Antonio pried as Gilbert walked back into his room and sat on the edge of his bed, "Is he the guy you were with?"

Gilbert stared down at his hands, "Can I ask that we don't talk about this?"

Antonio hesitated for a second, his eyes flicking towards Francis's room before he replied, "Right, sorry. Um…do you still have my laptop? That's actually why I came here in the first place."

Gilbert leaned over his bed and picked the computer up. As he handed it to Antonio, he decided he should probably apologise for his earlier outburst, "I, er, I'm sorry about shouting at you earlier." The atmosphere was more than a little awkward, but Gilbert pressed on, "I just…everything between you and Lovino is totally consensual, right?"

Antonio smiled at him, "Yeah, promise. And, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." He took the laptop off Gilbert, "I'll try not to be all over Lovino when you're around."

Gilbert nodded his thanks to him, then remembered what he had planned to talk to Antonio about earlier, before he freaked out about Lovino, "You know your friends? Roderich and Elisaveta?"

"The ones who are getting married, yeah."

"I do know them."

"Really?" He grinned, "What a coincidence! I didn't realise."

"Yeah, I was wondering whether you could tell me where they lived."

Antonio paused, he looked like he was thinking about something. Gilbert was about to press him harder when he replied, "Roderich called me today – whilst I was at work, mind you – he was asking whether I wanted to go round to his place at the weekend, I'm sure he wouldn't mind if ya came along with me."

Gilbert felt the smile on his face widen considerably, "Thanks a lot." He said.

"No problem. Anway, I've got a shit load of marking to do before tomorrow, So I'd better start soon. See ya!"

"See ya." Gilbert repeated back at Antonio as he pulled the door to and left the room.

Gilbert lifted his arm round to his back, running his hand along the name written there, then he gritted his teeth and rammed his fist into the wall.

* * *

><p>Antonio was on his third paper when his door opened. At first, he thought it was Gilbert, seeing as he had just spoken to him, but as soon as he saw the two glasses of wine held in the man's hands he realised it was Francis.<p>

"Great timing," Antonio said to his blond friend as he perched himself on the end of Antonio's bed, "You can help me mark these French papers."

He chucked a few of the papers in Francis's general direction. Francis rolled his eyes and handed one of the glasses he was holding to Antonio before picking up the test that fell closest to him, "After I brought you wine as well!" He exclaimed.

Antonio laughed, "Gracias."

"De rien." Francis replied before reading the first question on the test and picking up a pen from Antonio's windowsill.

After a few minutes of just the scratching of pens on paper and occasional slurping of wine disrupting the silence in his bedroom, Antonio piped up, "I think I know the name of the guy who Gilbert's been living with."

Francis's head snapped up and a slightly hurt expression was apparent on his face, "He told you?"

Antonio smiled reassuringly at his best friend, "No, I think if he told any of us, it'd be you anyway, I don't think he trusts me. I walked in on him getting changed, I only saw it briefly, but he has a name tattooed on him, 'Ivan Braginski', sounds Eastern European."

Francis's face morphed into a smile, "Onhonhon~ Did you ask about him?"

Antonio nodded, "Yeah, but he looked uncomfortable when I did, so I dropped the subject. I'm guessing they must have had a pretty messy break up or something. Maybe that's what the lack of sleep is about."

Francis shook his head, "I don't zink so, he sounded in pain, but it could have something to do with the reason why he looks so miserable."

They carried on silently marking tests papers for a few more minutes before Antonio threw down his pen in frustration, "Now I'm curious about this Ivan guy!"

Francis gave him a warning look, "Don't press Gilbert about him, wait until he brings it up, he'll tell us when he's ready."

Antonio sighed and relaxed against the wall and picked up his pen again, "I guess…I hope that's soon."

Francis suddenly smiled, "I think this is the first time Gilbert hasn't barged in on us whilst we were talking about him." He quickly glanced up at the door, daring it to prove him wrong, then turned back to the paper he was marking, with a frown on his face, "This student really sucks at French."

* * *

><p>The next day, Gilbert sat eating his breakfast whilst reading the phone number list from Ludwig. He considered calling his father and arranging to meet him properly but it was Mathias's number his eyes kept lingering on.<p>

Decided, he placed his now empty bowl by the sink, which he noticed Francis had completely finished cleaning. He headed to the phone and was about to dial Mathias's number, but he couldn't help remembering his hands-on approach to life. He wondered if he would be able to cope around such a touchy-feely person, but a lot of years had gone by, and people changed. Perhaps he wasn't quite as bad now. Although judging by Arthur's comment about him the previous day, that wasn't the case.

He sighed and rang the number anyway; he didn't have to arrange to meet up with him straight away, a phone call would do for now, it would just be nice to talk to him again.

The phone rang a few times before he heard someone at the other end, "Hej Francis! Or is this Antonio?"

Gilbert smiled to himself; trust Mathias to not even wait for the person calling to introduce themselves, "Neither, it's Gilbert."

"What?" The Dane expressed loudly, "You live with Antonio and Francis? But I've been round there loads and I've never seen you! Not once!"

Idiot. "I've only just started living here; I've been away for a long time."

Mathias's tone sobered slightly, "I noticed…it was never the same without you there."

Gilbert felt quite touched by Mathias's comment, but was far too awesome to actually admit that to him. "I, er, I just called to ask how you were."

Mathias laughed, not because anything was funny, but probably just because he was happy, "I'm great!"

Gilbert couldn't help feeling that Mathias was lying, his ever cheerful tone was slightly flat and the laugh, now he thought about it, sounded a little forced. He paused for a second, "Did you and that Lukas kid ever actually hit it off?"

There was silence for a long time before Mathias eventually said, "Yeah, we were dating for a few years, but he broke up with me about 5 months ago." He heard Mathias sigh lightly, "I haven't really seen him much since." Then his tone lightened, "But that's in the past, right?"

Gilbert was pretty sure it wasn't as 'in the past' as Mathias hoped. He sighed and Mathias continued talking, "Anyway, I'm almost there now, so I might put the phone down."

Huh? "Almost where?" Gilbert asked

"Antonio's house of course!"

"What?"

"That's why you called, right?"

Er, no. Gilbert was about to point out that Mathias had pretty much just invited himself round, but decided that upsetting his friend within minutes of talking to him again after such a long time probably wasn't a good idea.

"Whatever, I'll see you in a sec then, yeah?"

"Yeah, see you!"

Gilbert put the phone down and ran upstairs. He could hear Francis pottering around in the kitchen, so hopefully when Mathias knocked on the door, it would be Francis who would open it and feel his friendly wrath.

It only took a few minutes for Mathias to arrive. Gilbert listened to Francis moving downstairs, when he was convinced he had gone to open the door, he slowly started making his way down.

Francis looked surprised as he opened the door, "Mathias! I wasn't expecting you." He sounded pleased though, so they were obviously still as close as they were in secondary school.

Mathias glomped his younger friend, "I came to see Gilbert…I brought beer!"

Gilbert stayed standing on the stairs so it would be hard for Mathias to forcibly hug him. He grinned at his tall friend, "'Sup." He said.

Mathias grinned back, "Good to see you again! So, who's up for a drink?"

They spent the rest of the day talking; Mathias was the kind of person who could talk for a very long time about absolutely nothing so the day seemed to pass quite quickly and Gilbert felt confident enough to drink a little more beer than he had a couple of days before, he was however cautious that he didn't get drunk; he didn't want to say anything he would regret later.

For the rest of the week, Gilbert didn't do much at all. He talked briefly with Arthur and Mathias again, and Arthur informed him that he would be happy for him to start working next week if he wished.

By the time the weekend rolled around, he was feeling rather bored and was grateful that he had made plans to see Roderich and Elisaveta with Antonio. He wasn't grateful, however, when Antonio woke him at a very untimely hour.

"Gilbert! Rise and shine!" He pulled open his curtains, "It's a brand new day! There are people to see, places to-"

"Okay, okay! Enough with the sunshine and rainbows talk, I'm getting up." Gilbert interrupted.

"Sunshine and rainbows, whut?" Antonio said, then just shook his head and went to leave the room, "I'm all ready, so I'll wait downstairs for ya and we'll head off to Roderich's house"

"Cool, I'll try to be quick." He said.

Once he was washed and changed, he ran downstairs and stuck his head into the lounge, where Antonio was waiting patiently, "I'm ready." He said.

They headed outside to Antonio's car. Gilbert felt a gnawing sensation in his stomach as he saw it, he _hated_ feeling so trapped, but he couldn't imagine how he was supposed to explain to Antonio that he was scared of his car without sounding like a total loony so he kept his mouth shut and simply zoned out, trying to keep his mind off the cramped space he was in.

Gilbert was extremely relieved when they arrived at Roderich's house and got out of the car immediately. He stared up at the house, it was pretty big, in fact, it was _huge_, Gilbert wasn't quite sure how they had managed to afford it; didn't Elisaveta work with Antonio? So she was probably a teacher, which wasn't exactly the highest paying job in the world.

He turned to Antonio, "What does Roderich do for a living?"

"I thought you knew him?"

"I did, quite a long time ago though."

"He's a musician," Antonio explained as they walked up the driveway, "And he composes music too I believe."

Gilbert glanced at the imposing house in front of them, "I'm guessing that pays pretty well."

Antonio grinned, "Yeah, and Elisaveta comes from a pretty rich family, and I think they support her financially quite a bit."

Gilbert was surprised to hear that at first, she seemed like such a working class kid when he had played with her as a child, but then her private school education came to mind and he quelled his surprise.

When they got to the door, they noticed a small sign had been pinned up. Gilbert leant forward and scrutinised the loopy handwriting. It read:

_Dear Antonio,_

_I am currently dropping Elisaveta off in town to meet with some of her friends. I shan't be long, but if you don't want to be kept waiting, feel free to use the key that I have left underneath the doormat to let yourself in and make yourself at home. But please don't break anything._

_Sorry for any inconvenience caused,_

_Roderich_

Gilbert read it a couple of times and then burst out into laughter, "He could have just written, 'I'm out, be back soon.'"

Antonio shook his head, chuckling slightly, "And he probably shouldn't have written where he left the key in plain view of anyone who came to the door. He can be such an idiot"

Antonio leaned down, lifted up the doormat and pulled the key out from underneath it, he opened the door and headed inside. Gilbert felt his stomach tighten slightly; he couldn't help noticing how similar the layout of the house was to Ivan's, but the furnishings and colour scheme were vastly different. There was a lot less red.

Curious now as to what the rest of the house looked like, he wanted to take a look around but didn't think there was any way he would be able to ditch Antonio to do so. Thinking on the spot, he turned to his friend, "I need the toilet; I'll be back in a sec."

He ran upstairs without waiting for Antonio to respond. He noticed the bathroom was near to the stairs, and made a mental note to flush the toilet when he went back past it, so his cover for simply being nosy was realistic.

The next room he looked in was obviously their bedroom, Gilbert felt mildly amused at how feminine it looked. Either Elisaveta had decorated, or Roderich had the taste of a woman. More likely the latter.

He wasn't sure how much time he had, so he didn't stop to nose around the room. Instead, he poked his head round the doorway of the room next to it and felt his mouth drop open. It was filled with instruments; woodwind, strings, brass… Roderich seemed to have a whole orchestra hidden in here. Although saying that, there wasn't a piano anywhere in sight, but perhaps it was downstairs somewhere, dragging a piano upstairs didn't come across as a particularly pleasant task

He walked in the room, all thoughts of getting back downstairs quickly flying right out the window. He headed straight over to the violin lying in its open case, it seemed to be calling him, teasing him.

He leant down and picked it up carefully, it was a full-size violin but it still felt incredibly light, he lifted it up and placed it under his chin, smiling at how familiar it felt.

_Gilbert kicked at the yellowing leaves that littered the pavement. School had been ridiculously boring that day, and he really just wanted to get home. _

_Passing the courtyard he always did on his way back from school, he heard a small, pitiful whimpering sound and turned to see what was making it. _

_A young boy in very smart uniform was sat on the floor, looking helplessly at the blood that was oozing from his knee. Gilbert rolled his eyes and headed towards the boy._

"_Oi, Priss, whatcha doing on the floor?"_

"_I fell over" The boy sniffed, "What does it look like?"_

"_It looks like you're being a whiney bitch" Gilbert said, but he swung his bag off his back and started rummaging around in it._

_The young boy gave him a quizzical look, "What are you looking for?"_

_Gilbert didn't respond, but carried on searching through his bag until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a small box of plasters and handed one of them to the kid, "For your knee" He explained as he gave it to him._

_He looked surprised for a second, then warily accepted the plaster, "Thank you." He looked back at Gilbert once he had put it on his knee, "Why the hell do you carry plasters around with you?"_

_Gilbert shrugged, "My Dad makes me, 'cause apparently I'm always getting into trouble." _

_Gilbert stood up, "Well, I'm off, watch yourself next time."_

"_Wait!" The boy called, looking mortified, "I, er, I'm lost." He admitted._

"_Lost? How'd you mean?"_

"_Um, I was trying to walk home from school, usually Daddy picks me up but he was busy today so he couldn't, and I think I must have taken a wrong turning somewhere…I don't really know where I am."_

_Gilbert had to bite his lip to prevent himself from bursting into hysterical laughter, "You got lost?" He taunted, "On your way home from school?" _

_The boy looked affronted and 'hmph'ed slightly, crossing his arms._

_Gilbert grinned, "Fine, I'll try and help. Where'd you live?"_

"_On Fuchsia lane."_

_Gilbert looked at the school badge on the boy's blazer pocket, then back at his face, "You're joking right? I do know where that is, where all the posh-ass people live, but dude, you took more than just one wrong turning, you've gone completely the wrong way."_

_The boy's face fell, "Oh, well, could you show me the way?"_

_Gilbert sighed, so much for getting home quickly but accepted and reached out his hand to pull the boy to his feet. Once he was standing, the boy brushed down his clothes and held out his hand to Gilbert, "I'm Roderich by the way, Roderich Edelstein."_

_Gilbert shook his hand off, "I don't shake hands, that's just sad." He paused, "You're German?"_

_Roderich shook his head, "Austrian."_

"_Same thing, pretty much." Gilbert grinned, "I'm Gilbert Beilschmidt. But I'd prefer it if you called me 'Awesome' , or 'He who must be revered and loved'"_

_Roderich stared at him, "Are you serious?"_

"_Completely."_

_He rolled his eyes, "I think I shall call you Gilbert."_

"_Great! So we get to choose what to call each other? Can I call you Priss? Or is Specs a little more suitable?"_

_Roderich glared at him, "Can we just find my house please?"_

"_Right, let's go" Gilbert said as he headed off in the direction of Fuchsia lane._

_After a few minutes of walking and Roderich saying, "I'm sure it was that way." They arrived at the bottom of the street._

"_Right, here you go, you can find your house on your own street right?"_

_Roderich glared at him again "Ja, ja."_

"_Great, 'cause I need to be heading home myself." He turned around to leave then thought of something and turned back, "And now you owe me."_

"_What?"_

"_Awesome helped you, and Awesome doesn't do things for free; you owe me."_

_Roderich frowned, "What exactly do you want?"_

"_I dunno…wait, how about you teach me something awesome?"_

"_But I don't know anything 'awesome'!"_

"_Sure you do, got any talents?"_

_Roderich thought for a second, "Well, I do embroidery," Gilbert screwed his face up in disgust as Roderich continued. "And I'm good at cooking, and I can play quite a few instruments."_

_Gilbert finally looked half-interested, "What can you play?"_

"_Piano, flute, harp, viola, violin…" He began listing._

_Gilbert stopped him, ""Okay, okay, I get it; you're a total music snob." He paused "How about you teach me how to play the violin? I'll bet I'll be really good at it."_

"_Fat chance, but I'll teach you anyhow, I suppose spreading love of music won't hurt." He smiled for the first time that day, "When do you want to start?"_

"_I'll meet you tomorrow; will you remember how to get to that courtyard?"_

_Roderich's face returned to a frown, "Probably not."_

"_Right, I'll meet you outside your school tomorrow, and show you the way, I'm sure you'll remember it eventually."_

_Roderich nodded and started heading up the road, but after a few metres he turned around and smiled once more, "Thank you" He said._

_Gilbert grinned back at him, pivoted round and headed home._

Some music was lying open on a stand near to the violin; it looked like Roderich had been playing shortly before he left the house. He looked at the piece, it was one he remembered playing with Roderich as a teenager. He pulled the bow out of the violin case and up to the strings of the instrument.

He began to play, he couldn't remember any of the notes and was concentrating quite hard on the sheet music when he heard a voice call out behind him.

"Hmph , you're out of practice."

**Yay! A decently lengthy Chapter! I'm quite pleased with how this one turned out, especially the start. And only one flashback was involved, that may be a record XD**

**Anyway, I'll start writing Chapter 7 shortly, but I can't promise I'll always be able to update so quickly, especially when I'm actually at school (I have Focal Segmental Glomerulosclerosis, so I'm hardly ever at school; my parents are considering asking the school if I can resit year 10, I don't even now if that's legal in this country :'D) **

**Oh and to those who speak American English:**

**Pavement: Sidewalk**

**Plaster: Band-aid (I think XD)**

**As I said at the top, I adore getting reviews, so please do review, even if you only have negative things to say! **


	7. Chapter 7: Reunion

**A/N: I was quite sad that not as many people reviewed last chapter, but thank you to the awesome people who did! To Imation, firstly, thank you for the review and all the kind words! I'm sorry if Antonio swearing bothers you, I'm a Brit, so I tend to swear a lot. It's better than it was before at least, he said 'bloody hell' in the original transcript, my sister made me change that XD I'll try to tone it down though :3 'Hej' is Danish for 'Hello', sorry for not clearing that up~**

**Now bring on Roddy and Lizzy!**

Gilbert span around to the doorway. Roderich was standing there, leaning against the frame and with a very annoyed expression on his face. As always.

It felt strange to see him again after so long, almost unreal. He grinned, "Hey, what's up?"

"Ceiling." Roderich replied coldly before walking towards him and taking the violin from his hands, "Did your parents never teach you any manners? You can't just storm into people's houses and use their things without permission"

"_Someone _got out of the wrong side of bed this morning" Gilbert teased. Roderich simply glared at him and started putting his violin back into its case. He snapped the case shut and turned back to Gilbert, "What are you doing here?" He asked, his tone wholly unwelcoming.

Gilbert shrugged, "I haven't seen you in years, I figured saying hello couldn't hurt."

Roderich stormed out the room and headed towards the stairs. Gilbert followed him. Roderich spoke as he descended to the ground floor, "You haven't seen me in years because you abandoned me!"

"Huh?"

Roderich stopped halfway down the stairs and turned to face Gilbert, "You _promised_ me that you'd meet me the next day. I arrived there an hour early and I waited for seven goddamn hours. I went back the next day, in case something had happened to hold you up the day before, but you _still_ didn't turn up. So I went back the next day. And the next." He looked furious as he spoke and his breathing had become heavy from saying so much in such a short space of time.

Gilbert stared back at him dumb founded. What the hell was he supposed to say? _Oh, sorry about that Roderich but a sicko stalker of mine threatened your life so I had to go live with him._ In his head it sounded stupid, unbelievable, and he was pretty sure that was how it would sound to his old friend as well.

Roderich gave him a dirty look before turning back around and clearing the stairs before heading into the living room, where Antonio was seated, "I heard a lot of shouting." He said, "Is everything alright?"

Roderich glared at Antonio, ignoring his question, "What on _Earth_ compelled you to bring _him_ along?" He asked, thrusting his hand at Gilbert as he did.

Antonio blinked back, completely clueless. "Gilbert told me he knew you…I assumed you were on good terms."

Gilbert glared slightly at Roderich now, "We _were_. But Roderich's overreacting about something that happened years ago."

The furious look he had given Gilbert on the stairs returned to Roderich's face, "I haven't seen you for _eight years_ Gilbert, you could have at least contacted me sooner, rather than turning up almost a decade later, acting like nothing happened."

Antonio interrupted again, "Er, Roderich, I wouldn't take that too personally, no one seems to have seen him in that long. He's been living with some European guy."

Gilbert felt like he could have throttled Antonio there and then. He had planned _not_ to tell Roderich about that part. A hurt look flashed across Roderich's face and he looked back to Gilbert, "You were seeing someone?" He sounded less angry now, just upset, "And you never even told me?"

Gilbert threw up his arms in defence, "I'm sorry, okay? It was a long time ago." He frowned, "And I wasn't seeing him as such."

"Then what was it?"

Gilbert shrugged, "Complicated."

Roderich rolled his eyes, "Descriptive." He said.

There was an extremely awkward silence that followed; no one really knew what to say.

Feeling slightly self-conscious from Roderich glaring at him, Gilbert looked around the room. It had the same feminine feel to it that every other room in the large house had, and in the corner stood a large, impressive grand piano. Gilbert smiled; he knew there would be one somewhere.

"What are you smiling about?" Roderich snapped as he made to sit down.

"Nothing." Gilbert replied. He would have liked to sit down too, but he was pretty sure Roderich would kill him if he did, so he stayed standing.

Antonio clapped his hands together, "Great! Now that's sorted, shall I make some coffee?"

Both Gilbert and Roderich were pretty certain that nothing was sorted, but their arguing was clearly starting to irk Antonio, so they didn't say anything but, "Yes, I'd love some coffee, thank you, but I'll make it. It's my house after all." As he passed Gilbert, he reluctantly asked, "Would you like some?"

Gilbert nodded and once Roderich had left the room, he collapsed on one of the sofas next to Antonio.

Antonio looked at him, "How come he's so angry atcha?"

Gilbert shook his head, "I'm not sure, I kinda hoped he'd be happy to see me…"

Antonio placed a hand on Gilbert's shoulder; he flinched at first, but quickly relaxed.

"I'm sure he'll get over it." Antonio said, "Maybe it's his time of the month."

Gilbert snorted. "I hope he gets over it." He said, sinking further into the couch. But a nagging voice in his head was telling him that that very much wasn't the case.

They had stayed at Roderich's house for another few hours and the atmosphere didn't feel any less tense the whole time. When Antonio stood up and announced that he needed to get home to get some lesson plans finished, Gilbert felt extremely relieved.

They headed towards the front door, then Antonio turned around, "Almost forgot, Roderich, I changed my e-mail address, I'll just quickly right it down for ya."

Gilbert turned to him, "I'll wait outside for you."

"Go ahead." Antonio threw him his car keys, "You can wait in the car if ya want."

"Thanks." Gilbert said and left the house. He started walking down the long driveway when someone turned into it.

For a crazy second, probably since they had surprised him, he thought it was Ivan, but when they came closer he realised it was a woman, and not just any woman. Elisaveta.

She froze as she met his gaze, and her lips parted slightly.

There was silence for a second before Elisaveta shouted, "Prussia!"

He was pleasantly surprised that she remembered his childhood nickname; it had been about fifteen years since they had last talked.

_He ran into the park alone; things were getting so hectic at home now that Ludwig had been born. And his mother always seemed really upset, so going to the park was a good way to just get away from it all._

_There was a tree he always loved to climb, it was _his_ tree, but as he approached it today, he noticed someone else was sitting in one of the higher branches._

_He shaded his eyes from the sun with his hand and looked up. The boy sitting on the branch smiled at him. "Halló!" he said._

_Gilbert gave him what he hoped was a very unimpressed look, "What are you doing up there?"_

_The boy looked confused, "I'm climbing a tree, duh."_

_Gilbert frowned, "Yeah, but this is my tree, go find your own."_

_The boy just laughed, "Prove it! Come up here and fight me like a real man!"_

_Gilbert stared at the branch, it was higher than he had managed to go before. "What's wrong?" the boy teased "Can't get this high?"_

"_I can!" Gilbert shouted defiantly as he placed his left leg in its usual foothold and started hauling himself up. When he got to the branch below the boy he felt himself shaking slightly. He was a little bit scared about trying to get higher; he didn't really want to die at such a young age. But he was awesome! He would have to do this!_

_He scooted closer to the trunk and pulled himself onto the same branch as the thief boy, who he could now see had light brown hair pulled back into a scruffy ponytail. "Ha!" He shouted, "Told you I could!"_

_The brunet boy smiled at him, "Fine, but I'm not budging."_

_Gilbert was about to push him, but couldn't help noticing just how far away the ground looked from here. He didn't imagine his dad would be happy at all if he murdered a random kid in the park._

"_Hmmm, maybe we can share the tree then, I suppose you did manage to climb pretty high."_

"Pretty _high? You say that like you went higher than me."_

_Gilbert grinned, "Is that a challenge? 'Cause I bet you I can!"_

_The boy looked a little worried now, "The branches above us look a little thin…"_

"_Pfft. Wimp." Gilbert said and started to try to get to a higher branch._

"_I really don't think you should do that!" The boy said, shuffling closer to Gilbert, who was swinging his legs over another branch. For a few seconds, it looked like he was doing alright, but then a horrible _snap_ sound rang out as the wood fell from beneath his feet. The other boy screamed and looked like he was trying to catch him. Gilbert crashed into him and they both tumbled to the ground._

_ "Ow!" the boy exclaimed, pushing Gilbert off him and rubbing the back his head. "I told you that wasn't a good idea!"_

_ Gilbert sat up, his knees were bleeding and his arm felt a bit funny but he also felt very accomplished. "Ha! I got higher than you."_

_ "Great, you win, just don't do that again!" He sounded a little worried._

_ Gilbert relaxed against the tree and the boy followed suit. "What's your name?" Gilbert asked._

_ The boy scrunched up his face, "I don't like my name."_

_ "Okay, what should I call you then?"  
>The boy thought for a second, "Hungary."<em>

_ "Hungry?"_

_ "No, Hun-ga-ry. It's where I was born."_

_ "Oh cool, I was born in East Germany."_

_ The boy smiled, "Shall I call you that then?"_

"_Nah, call me Prussia!"_

"_Prussia? You mean Russia, right?"_

"_No! Prussia, with a 'P'"_

"…_you made that up, didn't you?"_

_Gilbert smiled triumphantly, "You don't know what Prussia is? What did I expect! Only awesome people know it."_

"_No, no, I do know it!" Hungary insisted, "I just…forgot!"_

_The shadows falling on Hungary's face were beginning to stretch and Gilbert could see the sun falling lower in the sky. He jumped up, "I need to get home before dark." He explained, then paused for a second, "Can we play again sometime?"_

_The boy beamed at him, "Sure! But I'll win next time for sure!"_

"_Ha! You wish!" Gilbert shouted back at him as he ran off._

"_Bye, Prussia!" He heard the boy say._

"_Bye, Hungary!" He called back and ran out of the park to go home._

He had never found out her real name when they were young children; only when her blonde friend had said her name in the incident when they were both teenagers did he ever learn it. In fact, for the five years that he spent playing dangerous and daring games with 'Hungary' in the park he was convinced she was male.

He smiled at her, "Hey, Hungary." He said.

She didn't seem to know what to do at first, but she broke into a smile too, "Long time, no see," She replied, "It's been, what? Ten years?"

"Eight." He corrected her; he was so used to that number by now.

She looked a little puzzled, "Really? I thought we were sixteen…Unless two years of my life didn't actually happen. That'd be awesome; I'd love to be twenty-four again."

Shit. She hadn't known him when he had left for Ivan's, he had forgotten. "Right, sorry, it was ten."

There was a small pause before Gilbert stated the obvious, "So…You're actually a woman."

She blushed slightly, "Yeah, I was wondering when you'd bring that up."

"How come you never mentioned?"

She closed her eyes momentarily and then dropped the shopping bags that she was holding. Gilbert thought she was going to hug him and stepped back slightly. But instead of coming towards him, she reached into her hand bag and pulled out a biro and a scrap piece of paper. She wrote a number down and handed it to him.

"That's my phone number." She explained, "Call me soon, we can meet up, I promise to explain everything."

Gilbert nodded, "Thanks."

Elisaveta picked up her bags again and smiled at Gilbert, "It's good to see you again anyway." She said and started heading towards the house. She paused and turned around, "Wait, why were you in my house?"

He waved his hand in the direction of the doorway, where Antonio was standing, "I was here with Antonio."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer, smiled her hellos to Antonio as she walked past him and headed into the house.

Antonio starting walking towards Gilbert, who heard more noise coming from the front of the driveway. He looked at the direction of the noise and felt his heart stop for a second when he saw who was there. Toris was walking up the drive with a boy(or was that a girl?) who was holding a pair of broken high-heeled shoes in their hands. The boy was saying, "I, like, totally can't believe these heels broke! They were, like, my favourites!"

Toris sighed, "I know, but you got some new ones today anyway, I'm sure you'll be fine." Then he noticed Gilbert and stopped, quite like Elisaveta had, with that same small look of shock on his face.

Gilbert smiled at him, "Hey."

"Hey." Toris half-whispered back, still looking shocked, "You got away from Ivan then?"

The blond man (Or woman, whichever) next to Toris looked at him, "Er, who's Ivan?" He sounded slightly jealous.

"He's my boss, Feliks."

"Oh," The blond looked a little disgruntled, "You're talking about work? Booooring! I'm going inside, don't take too long or we'll, like, leave you outside." He teased. "Just kidding! But I'll see you inside, okay?" He quickly hugged Toris and ran up to the house, still barefoot and holding those ridiculous shoes.

Gilbert returned to Toris's original question, "Yeah, I haven't seen him in about two weeks."

Toris smiled softly at him, "Good, I'm glad." He glanced up at the house, "Didn't know you knew Roderich and Elisaveta."

Antonio butted in at this point, "Wait a second," He said to Toris, "You know Gilbert? How?"

Gilbert tried to give Toris a 'shut up' look but Toris spoke anyway, "I'm his doctor."

Antonio shrugged, "Okay."

Toris turned back to Gilbert, "I haven't seen you in quite a few weeks though, how are you faring?"

Antonio took up interest again, "Woah, woah, woah. You haven't seen him in a few _weeks_? But no one's seen him in years!"

Gilbert could feel his stomach churning, this couldn't be good. Toris snapped his head back to Gilbert and mouthed 'You haven't told anyone?'

Gilbert shook his head. Toris nodded at him, then turned to Antonio, "Of course I've seen him, he's my patient. Anyway, I must be getting inside, Feliks threatened to lock me outside otherwise, although that might be better than being dragged into a sleepover…I'll see you another time though, sudie!"

Gilbert was glad that Toris had been so vague, and had ended the conversation there. Goodness knows how many questions Antonio would have thrown at him otherwise.

Gilbert turned to Antonio, "So, are we going home?"

Antonio nodded, "Yup, Let's go."

* * *

><p>Elisaveta ran inside the house, feeling strangely happy. She had always felt guilty for leaving Gilbert when they were kids, it would be good to be able to make amends and to simply catch up with how he had been.<p>

She heard noise in the kitchen and walked towards it. Roderich was putting the kettle on and looked considerably more miserable than she was. She dropped her, Toris and Feliks's bags onto the floor before heading towards her fiancé and placing a small kiss on his cheek. She rested her hand on his, "What's wrong?" She asked.

He frowned, "Just a run in with someone I used to know."

She grinned, "Co-inky-dink, same with me…Are we talking about the same person by any chance?"

He looked at her, "You know Gilbert Beilschmidt?"

"Beilschmidt? Is that his last name? I never knew, he always just called himself 'Gilbert the Awesome' or 'Prussia'"

Roderich rolled his eyes, but a slight tug on the corner of his lips suggested that he wanted to smile, "Sounds like him."

Roderich didn't look happy at all about seeing Gilbert again, so Elisaveta decided not to mention that she gave her phone number to him. Instead she said, "I've invited Toris and Feliks to stay for the night, girly sleepover kind of thing."

Roderich looked slightly amused, "You do realise neither of them are girls, don't you?"

"Of course I do, silly, but they are pretty girly for men." She suddenly felt arms wrap around her from behind. She squealed and turned around.

Feliks grinned at her, "Are we talking about me?"

She laughed and took his hands, "How on earth did you guess?"

When Gilbert got back home he went straight to his room and flopped down on his bed. He couldn't believe that one of the men he had spent eight years of his life going through hell to protect now appeared to hate his guts.

Roderich could be such an asshole, all he thought about was himself, he hadn't even asked Gilbert where he had been, as everyone else had. Gilbert thought he would have been happy that there was someone who didn't non-stop question him all the time, but now that it had happened, he was simply hurt by the lack of care that Roderich had showed for him.

He pulled his legs to his chest and rested his chin on his knees. He supposed he could still try to fix his friendship with Roderich, he had his fiancée's number after all. He pulled it out of the pocket and smiled he got the piece of paper Ludwig had given him and copied Elisaveta's number onto it before slipping it back into his pocket.

His thoughts panned back to Roderich, and his hurt face when he thought that Gilbert had been dating someone else when he knew him as a teenager. He buried hi face in his knees and, not caring for once if Antonio or Francis heard him, he burst into tears.

* * *

><p>The next day when Gilbert half-sleepwalked downstairs, Francis smiled at him, "Bonjour Gilbert!"<p>

"Mornin' Francis." Gilbert yawned, "You're not hung over for once."

"Non, but dear Antonio is."

Gilbert was surprised, "He went out last night? I didn't realise."

"Oui, oui, with Lovino. They both came back completely 'ammered; it was 'ilarious!"

Gilbert grinned and started pouring his usual Cheerios into a bowl.

"Oh, your Dad called last night." Francis said pulling two mugs out of the cupboard, "Coffee?"

Gilbert nodded, "What did he say?"

"'E just wanted to know if 'e could see you sometime soon."

Gilbert grunted in response and quickly downed his Cheerios. "I'd better call him back."

He headed into the lounge and over to the phone, dialling his Father's number. The phone rang once before someone picked up, "Hello! This is Paolo Vargas-Beilschmidt, can I help you?"

The voice was young and Gilbert didn't recognise it, although judging by his name he was his Father and Julius's adopted son or something.

"Yeah, can you put your Dad on?"

There was a pause, "Er, which one?"

Oh yeah. "The one who looks like a woman."

He heard laughing over the phone and it went silent for a little while before he heard his father's voice, "Hello?"

"Hey Dad, it's me again."

"Gilbert?" There was short pause, "Why was Paolo laughing?"

"I told him you looked like a woman, sorry 'bout that." He didn't sound that sorry though, he was trying to stop snickering himself.

"I've been told, many a time." His father said, clearly not amused.

"Sorry, I didn't really know what else to say. Anyhow, Francis told me you called last night."

"Mm, I was wondering if you wanted to come round for a meal sometime this week…only if you're feeling up to it of course."

Gilbert smiled, "That'd be great Dad."

He heard his father let out a little relieved sigh. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Dad, I'm sure."

"It's just…you seemed so ill last time I saw you…"

"Dad, you starting to sound like you don't want me there."

"No! No, I do, I'm just worried about you."

Gilbert sighed, "I thought we went over this? Everything's cool, I'm fine. I'll see you later in the week then, which day's best?"

"…Is Tuesday good?"

"Er, I think I'm working Tuesday evening, is Wednesday alright?"

"You got yourself a job?" He sounded surprised.

"Yeah, just working in a bar. It's only temporary, I'll get a proper job eventually."

"Okay, well Wednesday is fine, see you then."

"See you." He put the phone down and relaxed onto the sofa. Francis walked in the room.

"When are you seeing him?" He asked.

"Wednesday, I'll probably go round late afternoon."

"Ah, good, I'll be at work anyway. Poor Antonio will have the house to himself…then again he'll probably love that, goodness knows what he and Lovino will get up to." He smiled knowingly at Gilbert and handed him the coffee he had made for him.

Aldrich placed the phone down and turned around to see Julius frowning at him. He sighed, "What's wrong?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'."

He raised his eyebrows at him, "You know I do."

"No, not to me, you idiot, to Gilbert."

Aldrich frowned, "He's my son, he knows I love him."

Julius smiled sadly at him, "Does he?"

**I bet you didn't expect Roderich to be such an ass-hat, did you? Don't worry, he will get better, give him time XD**

**Short chapter is short! Sorry about that, I just didn't feel anything else should be added to it, next one will be longer, I promise :3**

**In fact, I'm really looking forward to writing the next chapter, because I'll be introducing Ukraine(Yekaterina) properly! In a flashback, but shush, that;s not the point :P**

**Please review! 3**


	8. Chapter 8: Mother

**A/N: Thank you to all the amazing people who reviewed since I posted Chapter 7! To lovely, lovely Imation, do you know how much your long reviews mean to me? I really appreciate them X3 I'm glad I managed to get so many different emotions across last chapter, and not make anyone too OOC XD Thank you so much!**

**I hope you like Ukraine, because the first fifteen hundred words of this chapter are all about her (And Gilbo of course.) So no Frying pangle this chapter, but they won't be gone for long!**

**When Yekaterina says '**Ваня**' she's talking about Ivan, it's the Russian spelling of Vanya, an affectionate form of Ivan, and '**нет' **is pronounced 'nyet'.**

"_Mother is _Матери_."_

_ "Mut-ye-ri?"_

_ "More of an 'a' sound than a 'u' sound at the start." Yekaterina explained to Gilbert as she tucked her feet underneath her._

_ Gilbert had been surprised when he first met Yekaterina by the sheer lack of attraction he felt towards her. She had hips and breasts three times the size of any other woman he had ever met and she had the kind of ditzy cuteness that many people would find adorable._

_ But as soon as Gilbert met her, he didn't know why, maybe it was because she was a lot older than him, or because she resembled his own, he couldn't help seeing a sort of mother in her._

_ He hadn't known his own mother very well. She had contracted post-natal depression after having Gilbert and the conditions they were living in at the time in East Germany weren't helping her at all. When they had moved to West Germany after the fall of the Berlin wall, she had improved slightly, they were some of the only times Gilbert could remember her laughing. Then she became pregnant again and spiralled back into depression. His father had done everything to try and help her and eventually they had even moved to England, hoping for a better life. But simply a few months after Ludwig was born, when Gilbert was only six years old, she had killed herself. _

_ At the time, of course, he hadn't really understood what had happened, except that he never saw his mother anymore and his father was even more distant than he had been before. Years later, his father had explained his mother's death to him and there was always that nagging thought in the back of his mind that it was sort of his fault._

_ He hadn't talked to Yekaterina much at first, in all honesty he was slightly scared of her; he had had bad experiences with both her younger siblings and seeing as they were brought up together, it was logical to think that they would act quite similar._

_ The first time he had really spoken to Yekaterina was when Ivan was away for a short time. He did that sometimes, Gilbert assumed it was something to do with his 'business' but he wasn't entirely sure as he didn't understand a word of the Russian that Ivan spoke on his phone calls arranging to meet up with his clients._

_ Whenever Ivan left the house, he left someone there, probably partially just to look after the house, and partly to keep an eye on Gilbert, make sure he didn't try to leave._

_ Before, he had left Natalia, which had ended awfully and Gilbert tended to lock himself in his room when she came round. Thankfully, Natalia had gone with Ivan once and he had instead left Yekaterina._

_ Gilbert had hidden in his room at first and he could remember feeling absolutely terrified when she had knocked on the bedroom door._

"Gilbert?" She had said cautiously, "Could you open the door?"

He pushed his bed against the door and shouted, "No!" He hoped as hard as he could that she wouldn't tell her brother he had been so noncompliant.

He heard her burst into tears beyond the door. Fuck, she was probably just like Ivan. He would commonly become 'upset' if Gilbert didn't listen to him, or sometimes for reasons Gilbert didn't even understand. And upset Ivan was somehow even more disturbing than an angry Ivan.

He could hear her sobbing getting more intense. He felt a little bit bad, making a woman cry, but she was Ivan's sister, goodness knows what she would do if he opened the door.

"O-okay" She choked out, "I'll just leave your food outside the room then." He heard her run downstairs, still sobbing.

When a couple of minutes had passed and he was certain that Yekaterina wasn't returning anytime soon he slowly pushed his bed away from the door and opened it.

On the floor in front of him was a tray laden with a plate of weirdly shaped dough things and a glass of water. He stared at it warily; goodness knows what she had put in the small dumplings.

His stomach grumbled loudly, he was so hungry, and the food looked so tempting…

Without caring how ill he would get by eating the food, he picked up the tray and headed back into his room. He pushed the bed once again against the door in case the food was intended to put him to sleep so she could do something to him whilst he was unconscious.

He picked up the cutlery that was half underneath the plate on the tray and suspiciously cut open the first dumpling, it seemed to be filled with a sort of minced meat. Gilbert tried it and _damn_ did it taste good. He shovelled the rest of them down and drained the water in one gulp. He panicked slightly then; what if Yekaterina had put a deadly poison in there? Dying wouldn't be so bad, it would mean no more Ivan, but he was sure it would somehow be his fault and he dreaded to think what Ivan might do to Ludwig or Roderich.

Would throwing it up get rid of the poison? He hoped so and started moving his bed again. He launched out of his room and towards the bathroom but to his horror he bumped into Yekaterina.

She gasped and turned around. She looked surprised at first but her face quickly broke into a warm smile. Gilbert wanted to trust that smile, but he really wasn't sure if he could.

"Did you eat the varenyky then? I noticed the tray was moved."

Gilbert felt frozen to the spot, just staring at Ivan's busty older sister. "Did you poison it?" He shot at her, his mind constantly reminding him that if she had, he was wasting his time talking to her as it was probably getting further and further into his system.

She gave him a blank look, "Poison it?" she asked, "Why would I poison it?" She looked innocent enough but so did Ivan most of the time, even pretty, young Natalia had looked approachable at first.

He ran past her, hoping she wouldn't try to stop him, and into the bathroom. He had never tried to make himself throw up before, but he had a pretty good idea of how to do it. He rammed his fingers to the back of his throat and felt the burning sensation of acid rise in his body as he chucked up everything he had just eaten.

Yekaterina had come into the unlocked bathroom behind and she screamed, "Gilbert! What are you doing?" She knelt down beside him and poured him a glass of water from the sink. She handed it to him and started rubbing small circles in his back. He shied away from her and didn't accept the water.

Yekaterina sighed. "I know you must find it hard to trust me… I know what Ваня does to you." She frowned slightly, "He doesn't mean it, he just…he…" She didn't seem to know how to justify it and her eyes started becoming very moist.

"Don't cry again." Gilbert begged; it reminded him far too much of Ivan. But he shuffled slightly closer to her and took the water.

Her eyes stayed wet, but no tears fell and she smiled softly at him, "Drink that up and I'll go make you some borsch. You can watch me make it to make sure I don't put any, um, poison into it if you want."

Gilbert nodded and stood up. Yekaterina followed suit and started heading downstairs. Suddenly, an idea came to Gilbert, "Er, Miss Braginski?"

She laughed, "You can call me Yekaterina."

"Right, Yekaterina then. Do you speak Russian?" they had reached the kitchen by now and she turned to face him.

"Of course, I used to live in Russia."

"Could you, um, could you teach me Russian?"

She looked puzzled and opened one of the kitchen cupboards, "Why? I thought that would be the last language you'd want to know."

He shook his head, "I hate not knowing what's going on all the time, I want to know what the fuck Ivan's up to." Yekaterina looked slightly alarmed when he swore, but didn't say anything, "And sometimes he speaks to me in Russian, and I have no clue what he's saying, so I don't know how to respond…then he gets angry." His face twisted slightly at the thought and Yekaterina smiled at him again.

"Okay, shall we start now? I'm sure you've guessed that 'да' is yes by now, and 'нет' is no. So Gilbert," She beamed at him, "Would you like some borsch?"

He smiled weakly back at her, feeling a little weird as he replied, "да."

_They were now sat on the floor of Ivan's lounge again. It had been a number of weeks since the incident with the verynyky, which Gilbert had learned was a popular dish in Eastern Europe, and he had started to learn bits and pieces of Russian. When Yekaterina wasn't around, he tried looking through some of the books that dominated the tall bookshelves in Ivan's house to try to grasp the weird alphabet._

"_So it's Mat-ye-ri?" Gilbert asked._

_Yekaterina nodded, "And father is _отец."

"_Ot-yets?"_

_Another nod._

_Gilbert sighed and leaned his head on Yekaterina's shoulder, "I miss my _отец._"_

* * *

><p>Gilbert set off for Ludwig's house at about three o'clock. He thought walking would be a nice change from taking the lift that Antonio had offered him, but in all honesty he spent the whole journey looking behind him constantly, expecting Ivan to appear at a street corner.<p>

When he got to Ludwig's unscathed he breathed a sigh of relief and knocked the door. Thankfully, it was his little brother, and not Feliciano, who opened it this time.

"Hallo." Gilbert said.

Ludwig nodded back, "Hallo." He said, smiling slightly. He stood back to let Gilbert in, "How come you're here."

"Well, Dad invited me round to wherever he lives now…But I don't actually know where he lives. I was wondering if you could take me."

Ludwig's hand shot to his head and he pulled it through his ridiculously slicked-back hair, "Scheiße, I forgot all about that." He said and then continued when Gilbert simply looked confused, "He invited me and Feliciano over too. Didn't mention you'd be there though."

A few minutes later, Ludwig, Gilbert and Feliciano were completely ready and headed back outside. Feliciano sat in the passenger seat of the car so Gilbert instead went to the back. It was _slightly_ less uncomfortable than sitting in the front had been, at least he had a little more space.

He kept his gaze out of the window the whole jouney again, though, and couldn't help making sure that Ivan was no where to be seen. He was starting to feel a little nervous; with quite a few people in the house, it would be hard for him to have some time alone, which he craved so often since leaving Ivan.

Furthermore, he didn't have a clue what Julius, his father's partner, was like, but judging by the fact that Ludwig suggested that he 'annoyed' his father and how Feliciano acted, he assumed he was quite a touchy-feely person too. He squirmed slightly in his seat, he didn't want to end up freaking out in front of his father again, but he was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to stop himself if Julius tried to touch him. Not only that, but Gilbert didn't really feel very confident about meeting many new people. Everyone he had willingly arranged to meet before now were people he had known before, people he trusted. Working in the bar would mean meeting a lot of new people, which was exactly why he had called in 'sick' the previous day. Arthur had been fine with it, thank goodness, he didn't want to lose his job already.

"Gilbert?" Ludwig shouted.

"Huh?"

"That's the third time I said your name."

"Right, sorry 'bout that, I spaced out a bit."

Ludwig sighed and opened the car door, "We're here." He said.

Gilbert was pretty sure his stomach was doing somersaults as he stepped out of the car; there wasn't any going back now.

The three of them walked up to the door. Well, Gilbert and Ludwig walked, Feliciano more _skipped_.

Ludwig knocked on the door and Aldrich appeared at the door within seconds, his tired face breaking out into a small, brief smile. "Ah, Hallo, I didn't expect you all to arrive together." He said as he stood aside to let them in.

"You didn't give me your address." Gilbert pointed out.

His Father looked surprised as he shut the door, "Oh, sorry, I assumed Ludwig had given it to you."

Ludwig blushed a bit, "Sorry, I didn't think to."

"Veh~ Is papà in?" Feliciano interjected, following them into the lounge.

Aldrich nodded, "He's in the kitchen I think."

Feliciano ran into the kitchen, obviously to greet him. Gilbert fell onto a sofa. Ludwig sat a little more carefully next to him before turning to his father, "Is Lovino coming round?"

"No, he said he was busy." Aldrich responded. Gilbert couldn't help noticing that Ludwig looked more than a little relieved at that.

Feliciano came back into the room, followed by a strong-looking man, whose wide grin didn't seem to match his imposing figure. Gilbert pushed that similarity to Ivan as far back in his mind as it would go.

Feliciano fell into Ludwig's lap, much to the latter's obvious embarassment. Although he didn't actually push him off, so he may not have been as bothered as he was trying to let on.

The man, who Gilbert guessed was Julius, smiled at him and held out his hand. Gilbert imagined his father had warned him not to try hugging him. "Ciao," He said, "You must be Gilbert, I've heard a lot about you."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows questioningly at his father before shaking Julius' hand, and winced slightly when the man shook it back quite furiously. He forced himself to smile back at him, "Hey, 'fraid I haven't heard much about you so far, Ludwig just said you annoyed Dad."

He glanced at Ludwig, who looked rather mortified. But Julius laughed it off, "Yup, that's my job around here." He grinned.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening reached Gilbert's ears. He felt his heart stop for a second, who the hell was it?

"I'm home!" He heard the young boy from the phone call out. He ran into the room, his resemblance to Feliciano and Lovino was striking, so he must have been Julius' biological son, contrary to what Gilbert had orignally thought.

The boy, Paolo seemed to remember him introducing himself as, dropped his school bag in the doorway of the lounge before walking over to his father, "Hey Papà." He said, kissing him on the cheek. How Italian.

He then ran over to Aldrich and kissed him on the cheek too, "Hey Vati."

Gilbert felt a small stab of jealousy, that was what he had called his father when he was little, it felt so wrong to see a complete stranger to him being so close to his own father. He glanced around the room, at Ludwig and Feliciano cuddling on the couch, at Julius and his father greeting Paolo home from school. He suddenly felt like he didn't belong. He didn't feel as though he was part of this new family at all.

"Well, I should probably start cooking." Julius said, "I'll be in the kitchen if annyone needs me." He headed to the doorway, then paused and turned around again,, "Paolo, why don't you make everyone some drinks?"

The teenager rolled his eyes, "Fine, but I'm expecting extra pocket money for this."

Julius laughed, "What? so you can take Sarah out on a date?"

Paolo lightly punched him on the arm, "She'd turn me down again if I tried."

After taking everyone's drinks order, Paolo disappeared briefly, then reappeared with the drinks. He handed them out. When he got to Gilbert, he frowned, "So, er, who are you anyway?"

"I'm Gilbert." He nodded his head at Ludwig, "I'm Ludwig's brother, which would make me your stepbrother I guess."

Paolo looked at Aldrich, then back at Gilbert, "Huh, go figure. I thought you'd look more like your dad...And didn't you pretty much disappear of the face of the Earth?"

"Yeah, but I'm back, so you're gonna have to put up with me."

Paolo grinned at him, "I think I can do that." He flopped on the couch next to him. Oh lord, Gilbert got the impression he was one of those younger kids who immediately assumed they were your best friend as soon as they met you. But he didn't want to jump to conclusions, he had only just met the boy after all, and he was nice enough.

Nevertheless, the couch now felt a little crowded, so Gilbert stood up, "I might go see if I can help Julius with the food."

He saw his father's shoulders relax slightly as he headed out the room.

The kitchen was large, even more so than Francis and Antonio's. Julius was standing near the hob, pouring some pasta into a large saucepan. He turned when Gilbert walked in the room, "Hey."

Gilbert walked nearer to him, he could feel his palms sweating a bit and wiped them on his trousers. Being in the same room alone with a man he didn't know wasn't the most comfortable situation Gilbert had ever been in. But his father trusted this man, enough to marry him, so Gilbert tried to relax. He leaned against the kitchen counter, "Anything I can help with?"

Julius smiled at him, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. Gilbert wasn't entirely sure, but he thought the man looked rather nervous himself. "It's alright," He said, "You don't need to do anything." He waved his hand towards the lounge, "Make yourself at home."

Gilbert shrugged and lifted himself onto a stool. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

"Not at all." Julius said.

The room fell silent for a short while as Gilbert just watched his stepfather –wow, it felt weird to think of him as that, he barely knew him – cook. Eventually, Julius turned around and blurted, "You don't think I'm-" He stopped.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side, "What?"

"You don't think I'm trying to replace your mother or anything do you?"

Oh, so that was what he was worrying about. Gilbert shook his head. "No, I hardly remember her." An image of Yekaterina swam into his head. Hurt, he pushed it away, she had abandoned him anyway. He smiled at Julius, "You seem pretty cool to me."

Julius looked very relieved. But then he started walking towards Gilbert. Without thinking, except for the fact that a man he had just met was coming far too close, Gilbert tried to run away, but ended up falling off the stool he had been sitting on and smashing his head against the side. He cried out and Julius quickly crouched down, "Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out his hand to check if Gilbert's head was bleeding.

He flinched away from Julius. He was too close. Far too close. Julius's face changed to a slightly hurt expression as he drew his hand back.

Aldrich looked in the room, "Is everything alright in here? I heard shouting."

Julius indicated to Gilbert, "He fell off the stool and whacked his head; I think he'll be alright though."

Gilbert looked up at his father's slightly concerned face, "Seriously Dad, I'm fine." He pulled himself to his feet, "My head just hurts a little."

Aldrich nodded and disappeared again. Gilbert turned to Julius again, "Sorry about that…I, er, I'm not that great with people."

Julius looked very unconvinced but nodded and turned his attention back to cooking. Gilbert felt awful, he really hadn't wanted to make Julius feel unwelcome around him but his body seemed to act without him wanting it to sometimes, trying to get away from any possible dangers.

The rest of the evening passed reasonably calmly, but Gilbert could tell that things between him and Julius were a little awkward, and it might be a long time before he actually trusted him.

* * *

><p>As everyone was saying their goodbyes, Aldrich leaned over to Julius, "That didn't go too badly, did it?"<p>

Julius smiled back at him, but it wasn't his usual carefree grin. Aldrich frowned and waved at his sons as they drove off. He waited until the car had turned the corner before he turned to his partner, "Something's wrong." He stated bluntly.

Julius shook his head, "I'm fine, it was nice to finally meet Gilbert."

Aldrich narrowed his eyes at him, "Did he say something to you?"

"No, no." He sighed, "I just get the impression he doesn't like me very much." He said as they walked back inside the house.

Aldrich's expression softened, "How come?"

"You know when he fell of the stool earlier? That's because he looked like he was trying to half jump off it when I went near to him. And he flinched whenever I came within a metre of him." Julius sounded slightly upset.

Aldrich smiled at him and comfortingly touched his arm, "If it's any consolation, he had a minor panic attack when I touched him." Julius looked up at him, surprised. Aldrich continued, "So I don't think it's anything to do with you."

He fell into an armchair and sighed, "It's something to do with _him_. Gilbert, that is. Something must have happened to him, but he always insists that he's fine." Now Aldrich sounded upset, which hadn't happened very often since he had been living with Julius.

Julius balanced on the arm of the chair and pulled Aldrich towards him, "I'm sure it's nothing too bad." He assured him, but judging by Gilbert's terrified expression simply when he was trying to help him, Julius was certain that that wasn't the case.

**I ended it on Rome and Germania again. So shoot me. I love those two so much XD**

**That piece of paper with the telephone numbers on is popping up so much, my brother and I decided it should be a character, and thus christened it 'Sparky McJohnathon'…I'm aware that sounds like something a 12-year-old would call their pet mouse, but it still made me laugh XD**

**I loved writing the bit about Ukraine, same with Hungary last chapter. There are so many males in Hetalia…it's draining to write them all! I swear, when I've finished this fic I'm going to sit down and write a cavity-inducing Yuri one-shot just so I can write some more girl power~**

**I'll try to get Chapter 9 up soon, but I may actually be going to school a few hours this week, so I can't promise anything. But I've managed 8 chapters in 7 days so far, plus two chapter of another fic. So I'm quite pleased XD**

**As usual, please review! Feedback is really helpful and really cheers me up! **


	9. Chapter 9: Changes

**Imation, will you marry me? I'm just kidding! But a 572 word review *o* I was so happy! I'm happy that you like the pace this is going at, I was afraid I would end up rushing all of the memories of Gilbert at Ivan's, but spacing them out seems to have worked :3 And it's awesome that I made you laugh! Same with my other reviewers, humour has never really been my strong point ^^' I've converted you to Rome/Germania? Muahahaha! Mission accomplished! *ahem*. I shall make sure to carry on fleshing out all the side characters, especially the pitiful friends and Ivan's sisters :3 I love everyone having a back story XD I'm so relieved you like Paolo, I was worried I made him a little OOC, but he's terribly fun to write, and a little easier than other characters because he's closer in age to me XD (seriously, writing as middle-aged men? Not easy :I) If you're eagerly anticipating Ivan's return, you may be pleasantly (or unpleasantly even) surprised by this chapter…But he and Gilbert won't be meeting again for a few chapters yet… I've changed the 'of' to 'off' now, that was just a spelling error, I apologise ^.^ And do make an account! My other readers are probably getting tired of me replying to you here :'D**

**Anyway, there will be quite an important scene in this Chapter without Gilbert at all (:O I know, shocking, The only scenes I've written without him so far are little fluffy Rome/Germania scenes and one scene with Francis and Antonio(Which is like my favourite scene in this whole fanfiction OTL)), but the rest is about him~ :3**

**Warning: Some violence in this chapter!**

**Enjoy!**

Gilbert glanced up at the Kirkland's pub, he was quite chuffed with himself that he had even remembered where it was.

It was reasonably quiet when he went inside, but then it was mid-afternoon so that was understandable. As he entered, Arthur looked up, "About bloody time."

Gilbert grinned at him, "Good to see you too."

Mathias was sitting at the bar with a large glass of beer in front of him and also looked up as his friend walked in, "Hej Gilbert!" Gilbert nodded at him and walked over to Arthur

The afternoon and evening went by without much ado; Gilbert was pleased that he had been able to work without completely freaking out. Although, now that it was getting later, he was starting to feel slightly uncomfortable in a room filled with a lot of people who had had a bit too much to drink.

Maybe working in a bar wasn't for him after all.

He picked up some empty glasses from a table and went back behind the bar where Arthur had just finished serving someone.

Gilbert leant his forearms on the bar and turned to his younger friend, "I thought your mother owned this pub," He said, trying to stimulate conversation, "And your siblings too, how come they're not around?"

Arthur froze. Mathias – who was still there, despite him not actually working that day – glanced worriedly up at him.

Gilbert panicked, "Er, have I asked a really bad question?"

Mathias pulled a face but Arthur shook his head, "It's fine, I forgot you didn't know…" He looked around the pub, "I think we'll be alright to stop for a drink for a little while, do you want anything?"

Gilbert nodded, "Beer would be good, thanks." He said as he sat down next to Mathias. Arthur poured Gilbert some beer and himself some rum before joining them.

Arthur sighed, "Three years ago, on my eldest brother's birthday, James had a little too much to drink." Arthur looked down at his rum then, looking slightly put off, "He gets violent when he's drunk, and I'm taking even more violent than he usually is. He started taking it out on mum…he ended up smashing her round the head with a bottle. He killed her." Arthur finished gloomily.

"What happened to your other siblings though?" Gilbert glanced around, "I thought they'd still be working here with you."

"Well, James went to jail, naturally, the bastard." Arthur sounded angry now, "Rhys was too upset by mum's death to stick around, so he moved to Wales. Shannon and Patrick stayed for a bit but about a year later they had a big, and rather public I might add, argument."

"Really?" Gilbert asked, genuinely surprised, "They seemed kinda close at school."

"Yeah, well they don't even talk to each other anymore, Shannon doesn't talk to any of us. Patrick e-mails occasionally…but I don't hear much from any of them…so I was left here to look after the pub, not that I mind," He smiled, "I like it here."

Mathias gave Arthur a very strong whack on the shoulder. Gilbert assumed it was supposed to be comforting. Arthur smiled briefly up at Mathias before downing his rum.

Gilbert frowned, "Seems like we've all had it pretty rough."

Arthur looked taken aback, "What happened to you? Something to do with Roderich and Elisaveta?"

"No, something else." Gilbert mumbled before drinking some beer.

"Well, if my sources are correct, that's the first time you've come close to admitting something is actually wrong."

"Would your 'sources' by any chance be Francis?"

Arthur nodded.

Gilbert scowled, "Well tell him to mind his own fucking business."

Arthur raised his abnormally thick eyebrows. There was a slightly awkward air until Mathias muttered something.

"Hmm?" Arthur looked at him quizzically.

"When you were telling Gilbert about your siblings, you didn't mention Peter." Mathias said, louder and clearer this time.

Gilbert slammed his hand down on the table, "I knew you had another brother! Yeah, what happened to him?"

Arthur grimaced, "Well, all of us were deemed unfit to bring him up, mostly because of our drinking habits…he was adopted by the Oxenstierna's, you know, the couple who own the little café in town?"

Gilbert shook his head, "I haven't been into town for ages."

"Ah, of course. Well, he was adopted and he seems to be doing well." Arthur looked down, "But you can tell he loves his new parents more than he ever loved me." Arthur sniffed "I'm such an awful big brother."

Gilbert smiled reassuringly at him, "I didn't even stick around to see Ludwig growing up…but I was kind of an awesome brother to him before that."

Arthur groaned and his head fell onto the bar. Gilbert decided it would be best to change the subject, "So, er, what happened about Alfred?"

Arthur sat back up, but he didn't look cheerful, "He's staying with a different friend now, I've hardly seen him." Arthur poured himself another rum and drained it before he said, "But he hasn't taken all of his stuff yet…maybe he'll come back."

Mathias whacked the little blond on the shoulder again, "You can do better than him Arthur! Find someone who actually likes you."

Arthur glared at him, "Says you." He shot.

Mathias dropped his arm, "He does like me back, he just….he said he needed time."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Five months seems like a bloody long time to me, maybe you should move on."

Mathias broke out into his usual grin, "I'd wait forever for Lukas!"

"Oh. Oh dear. I have a feeling you might have to."

* * *

><p>Toris walked up the familiar steps to Ivan's front door. He knocked and stood patiently outside. Ivan had left him waiting for an hour before so he was surprised, but pleased, when the door opened almost immediately.<p>

Ivan smiled at him, "Afternoon, Toris."

"Ivan." Toris inclined his head towards him as he walked inside, "What do you need me for?"

Ivan simply smiled again and walked into the kitchen. Toris took this as an invitation to follow him.

Ivan stood looking thoughtfully out of the window for a couple of minutes before his he turned his head in Toris's direction, "Gilbert's not here anymore," He said in his slightly feminine voice.

Toris feigned shock; he wasn't exactly going to tell Ivan that he already knew that, or that Gilbert looked considerably healthier now that he was free. "How come?" He asked.

Ivan pouted, "I don't know. He left me."

Toris sighed, "I thought you were becoming bored of him anyway."

"That doesn't mean he can just leave!" Ivan raised his voice slightly, the anger obvious in his tone. Toris went very quiet.

Ivan seemed to calm down slightly before he continued, "You told me threatening someone close to him would keep him here…that hasn't worked now, has it?"

Toris could have screamed; he hadn't suggested anything of the sort! Ivan was doing exactly the same to him. But Ivan needed someone to blame, he didn't want to believe that it was his fault that something had gone wrong, he was just like a child.

Ivan glowered at Toris, "You told me it would work!"

Toris had reached his boiling point now, "No I didn't Ivan! You're making this up!"

Ivan looked even angrier and strode over to Toris, then he paused and smiled, a slow, disconcerting smile that made Toris's stomach turn.

"Well, we'll see about that." He said softly.

Toris heard the front door open. He glanced down the hallway, Natalia, Ivan's beautiful half-sister had just entered the house, and behind her was – no!

Toris spun back round to Ivan, "Why is Feliks here?"

Ivan's smile widened. Natalia walked into the kitchen with Feliks. Feliks grinned at Toris, "Oh hey, Toris! This lady here told me you needed me for something. It is important, right? 'Cause I, like, totally just found the cutest skirt, ever and I really, really wanna buy it!"

Toris glared at Ivan, "Please don't do anything to him," He could hear the words coming out sounding strangled but he didn't care, "Please, I haven't done anything!"

Feliks looked confused for a second but then Natalia brought out her knife and pressed it against the blond's neck. "Move," She said, "And I'll fucking cut you."

Feliks eyes widened in fear and he looked at Toris. Feliks looked so helpless, and Toris felt a pain growing in his chest, he carried on talking to Ivan, "Ivan, don't let your sister hurt him, _please_."

Ivan giggled, "Oh, don't worry Toris, that's just a safety precaution."

Toris looked confused. Ivan glared at him again, "It's you I'm angry at. You told me it would work!"

"For the last time, I didn't!" He could feel himself shaking.

Ivan pouted, "Even if you didn't, you _showed_ me it worked, why has it worked on you, and not on Gilbert?" So stubborn! Toris sometimes wondered if a part of Ivan's brain just stopped developing when he was five years old, he always _had_ to have his way, and he was never wrong. Ever.

Toris bit his lip, "I don't know why it stopped working on him…this has nothing to do with me." He pointed at Feliks, "Or him."

"Toris," Feliks said, scared, "What's going on? Who is this guy? I thought you were a doctor?"

Ivan looked at Natalia, who pressed the knife slightly into Feliks's neck, "Shut up." She said, "No one wants to hear your whining." Feliks let out a little gasp but then went utterly silent.

Toris sighed inwardly; he couldn't really see a way out of this situation, Ivan was angry, _mad_. He needed to take his anger out on something…and Toris knew that if he succeeded in talking his way out of it, someone else would get hurt, maybe even poor little Raivis, and he was only a teenager. He looked at Feliks, "Feliks," He said fondly, but his voice was shaking, "No matter what happens, just stay there, just do as they say, and you'll be fine."

"But, what about you?"

"Feliks, just stay there, please."

Feliks didn't anything, but the look in his eyes told Toris that he would be nodding if he didn't have a knife so precariously placed across his throat.

Toris turned back to Ivan. Ivan grinned, "Good! Are we co-operating now?"

Ivan picked up the metal pipe that Toris always saw leaning against the kitchen cupboards, he turned it over in his hands a few times. Toris gulped; he dreaded to think what Ivan used that for.

Ivan pulled one of his hands away from his beloved pipe and twirled it slightly in the air, "Turn around." He ordered, his tone had turned back to its dark, angry form.

Toris obeyed, and as soon as he did he felt a blinding pain go across his back, he let out a small scream but stopped as soon as he saw Feliks's face. Natalia pressed the knife even further into his neck so that a small trickle of blood fell down it, "You'd better keep you eyes open." She said maliciously.

He felt the pain across his back again, he assumed it was the pipe, but it seemed like Ivan had reinforced it with something sharp as Toris felt his skin rip open and blood begin to pour down his back. Ivan hit him again, but he didn't cry out at all, just bit his tongue; he couldn't let Feliks know how much agony he was in.

Ivan spoke up then, "Toris, you're a doctor, da? You're supposed to be clever, so tell - Me - Why - Gilbert - Left!" Between every word, Ivan struck him again, and each time slightly harder, Toris could feel his whole back screaming for it to stop and an image of Gilbert burning on the same floor swam into his mind. Oh, the irony.

His mouth was warm with his own blood now and he spat it out before answering, "Ivan, I don't deal…with psychological things… you'd have to…ask someone…else…" He could barely string a few words together. He felt so pitiful, "Don't you…have a therapist…or something?"

Ivan stopped, "Yes, and he's more trustworthy than you…get out of my sight." He grabbed the top of Toris now very shirt and yanked him out of the room.

Natalia threw Feliks out after him, looking slightly disappointed that she didn't get to kill him. As they ran out the house, Toris heard Ivan say in his innocent voice, as if nothing had happened, "Goodbye, Toris!"

Toris fell to the ground as soon as they left the house. Feliks dropped down next to him and caught him. He burst into sobs, "What the hell was that about? I totally didn't realise you're boss was such a sicko…"

Toris didn't respond and Feliks cried harder, " Toris? Toris? Please, like, say something!" He rested his head on Toris's soft brown hair, "Please don't die!"

Toris buried his head into Feliks's chest, "I'm not dead, silly." He said, trying to sound upbeat, and failing miserably. Feliks pulled out his phone but Toris weakly grabbed his arm, "Don't. Don't call anyone, not the police, not the hospital, no one."

Feliks pulled his face away slightly and looked at Toris like he was crazy, "Of course I'm phoning the police! Look what he did to you!"

Toris took the phone out of his hand, "No, you can't. Ivan's probably got people in the police force…he'll end up hurting more people if we get him into any trouble."

"But that's, like, totally not fair!"

Toris smiled weakly up at his lover, "Life isn't always fair Feliks." He said before he saw the world spinning slightly and he passed out.

* * *

><p>Gilbert stared at his alarm clock. About half an hour had gone by since he had woken up, but he really couldn't be bothered to move. He sighed and shifted his position slightly; he hadn't slept well, again. He was getting sick of his constant nightmares and it was making him so damn tired.<p>

He sat up and yawned. He glanced around his room, and laughed softly. He had only been here a few weeks, yet he had managed to make it a complete tip. He supposed he should get round to tidying it.

He got out of bed and picked up his jeans that were strewn on the floor. A piece of paper was sticking out the top of one of the pockets. Curious, he pulled it out, only to discover it was just the list of phone numbers. He was about to throw it aside, but noticed Elisaveta's number scrawled at the end of the list in his handwriting. Damn, he had forgotten about that.

He glanced again at the time, she would be at work, but he was pretty sure she wasn't working non-stop all day so he tried calling her.

"Hello?" He heard her say

"Hey Hungary," He still felt weird calling her Elisaveta, the name Hungary seemed so much more familiar to him, "It's Gilbert, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow"

"Oh, hey Gilbert!" She replied, sounding happy, but slightly irritated "You do realise you've called me whilst I'm at work?"

"Yup."

"Asshole." She said it with a smile in her voice; Gilbert doubted she meant it at all. "Anyway, yes I'm pretty sure I'm free tomorrow, and it might be nice to have a break, do you have any idea how stressful planning a wedding is?" She laughed, "Do you know where Tino's is in town?"

"Nope, no idea. I, er, I actually haven't been around for a long time…that's why your fiancé's so ticked off with me."

"That's cool, you're living with Antonio, right? I can pick you up."

Oh. Great. More car journeys.

"Awesome." He lied, "What time? 'Cause otherwise I won't even wake up."

She laughed again, "How about 10 o'clock?"

"Great, see you then."

"Yeah…and Gilbert?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"Huh? For what?"

She sighed "For wanting to see me again after I kind of just left you as a kid."

Gilbert smiled, "It's fine, it doesn't really bother me, it was a long time ago."

"…It still bothers me though, so thank you."

"Right, well see you tomorrow then, yeah?"

"Yeah..see you." Gilbert heard something in the background behind Elisaveta and she laughed, "Antonio says hi!"

"Tell him to get back to work, the lazy git." He laughed as he hung the phone up.

The next day, after another uncomfortable ride in a car, Gilbert and Elisaveta headed into a very saccharine little café, it was decorated with incredibly cutesy blue and white furniture. It wasn't really to Gilbert's tastes, and he couldn't really see Elisaveta liking somewhere like this, but she looked delighted.

She headed straight over to the counter and Gilbert followed her, he whispered into her ear, "I didn't expect you to like somewhere so…"He searched for a suitable word, "…Girly." He finished lamely

She smiled up at him, "But the staff here are amazing." There was something slightly disconcerting about her smile.

A small man walked over to the counter, "Ah, hello Elisaveta!" He glanced quickly at Gilbert and smiled, "Not here with Roderich then today?"

"No, he's got an important rehearsal at the moment."

The man nodded, "What are you ordering, the usual?"

Elisaveta nodded and turned to Gilbert, "What do you want?"

"Uh, a cappuccino would be good."

"No cakes or anything?"

"Oh, yeah, actually, I'd love some."

"Which one?"

He smiled, "Surprise me."

The man who was serving them started making the drinks, and Elisaveta went back to talking to him, "How's Berwald?"

The man smiled fondly, "He's fine, he's just taking Peter to a friend's house at the moment." Elisaveta's face fell slightly and Gilbert suddenly remembered Arthur talking about the 'Oxenstiernas' who had adopted his brother…

He looked at the small man, "You don't happen to be the Oxenstiernas, do you?"

The man smiled, "Yup, I'm Tino Oxenstierna; I own this place with my husband, Berwald." Oh, so that's why Elisaveta liked the staff here, she probably enjoyed watching the couple interacting. And it still really weirded him out that there was a guy talking about his 'husband', although it was pretty awesome.

"Ah, cool, well hey Tino." He smiled, "I'm a friend of Arthur Kirkland's, that's why I was wondering."

Tino beamed as he put the drinks and cakes onto a tray, "Arthur hasn't been round much recently, Peter misses him I think…we'll have to invite him round for tea sometime soon!" He clapped his hands together at the last bit and Elisaveta pulled out her purse.

Gilbert stopped her, "It's alright. I, er, I'll pay."

A strange look flashed across Tino's face. Elisaveta smiled at Gilbert, "It's fine, no need to be a gentleman."

They paid and headed over to a small table by the window. Elisaveta smiled, "I love sitting here," She said, picking up her coffee, "It means I can watch people outside _and_ look at Tino and Berwald being adorable."

Gilbert snorted. He knew it.

There was silence for a couple of seconds, before Gilbert started talking, "So, um, this is gonna be really awkward, but did you have sex change? Or are you, like….what's the word…transgender?"

Elisaveta looked down at her coffee and swirled it slightly with a teaspoon, "First of all, you can't technically _have_ a sex change, it's gender reassignment, your sex is in your chromosomes."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "Nerd." He grinned.

"But no, I didn't have an operation or anything, I was always biologically female." She said, lifting the coffee up to her lips again. "And I wouldn't say I was transgender either; I'm comfortable identifying as a woman."

Gilbert was thoroughly confused, "Then why the hell did you act like a guy when you were younger?"

She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat and picked at the cake in front of her, "Because I feel comfortable identifying as guy too."

"So, er, what does that make you exactly?"

She dropped the cake fork she was holding, "I don't know Gilbert! Does everything need a friggin' label?"

He flinched slightly at her raised voice. Her expression softened again, "I'm sorry."

"How come you never told me when we were kids?"

"Well, at first I didn't even realise that I wasn't a boy. I mean, I went outside and played with all the other guys, whilst all the girls I knew tended to stay indoors, I didn't actually understand the difference," She blushed slightly, "That's what you get with super-religious parents I suppose. By the time I did realise that I was a girl, that incident with Lily had happened."

Gilbert looked confused. "Huh?"

"You don't remember? She wanted to play with us one day, but you told her that girls weren't allowed, that they should just go home and play with dolls."

"Aww, come on! I was, like, seven!"

She smiled, "Yeah, I know, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, I'm just explaining why I didn't tell you. I was too scared, I thought you'd stop wanting to see me, I was scared you'd abandon me." She frowned and drank more coffee. "So when my parents told me I was going to a private school for girls, I abandoned _you_." She blushed again, a little more furiously this time, "And I'll be honest, I had a huge crush on you when I was little." she laughed, "But I was pretty sure you were gay."

"What? Why did you think that?"

"Well," she looked up at him, "You liked me too, right?"

He didn't say anything, but Elisaveta didn't seem to mind, she continued, "But you saw me as a guy…and I bet you still do, right? It must be weird seeing me in these clothes." She glanced down at the skirt she was wearing and muttered, "This was a bad idea." She stood up.

"Hungary! Don't go, this isn't a bad idea…I just…it might take me a little while to come to terms with the fact that you're female."

"Yeah, and then what will you do?" A look of anger crossed her face, but it didn't seem directed at him, "Treat me like I'm just there to fuck? Like I'm not a person?" Gilbert had know idea why she had suddenly gone all feminist on him.

"Er, Hungary?" She didn't look at him and started heading out the café. "Elisaveta!" She turned around, a look of small surprise present on her face.

She smiled slightly at him, "That's the first time you've called me that, you know."

He walked over to her, "Look, I don't give two shits whether you're a guy, or you're a girl, or somewhere in between, or whatever." He ruffled the back of his hair awkwardly, "I don't want to know you just to sleep with you…we can be just friends, that's cool."

She smiled at him again, this time a little wider and moved forward to hug him. Gilbert stepped back quickly and she laughed softly, "I don't mind you _hugging_ me, Gilbert"

Gilbert shook his head, "It's not that, I just…I'm not good with hugging."

She frowned, "How come?"

He shook his head, "Another time."

She smiled again, "So can we meet up again soon?"

"Sure, how about sometime this week? Once you've finished work or something."

"Okay, I'll call you. Come on, I've got stuff I need to do this afternoon, I'll drive you home."

"Thanks" Gilbert said as he followed Elisaveta out of the café.

**I'm sorry I took a little bit of a break before posting this chapter but this fic is eating at my life! But I really enjoy writing it, so don't expect me to stop anytime soon! In fact, I won't know what to do with my life once this is finished D: (And don't worry, it will finish, I made sure I had three possible endings in my head at the start, and I've now decided which one I'm using and I know roughly when it'll be too :3).**

**You'll find out why Elisaveta is so bitter in time…**

**(Saccharine is a word for something that is nauseatingly cute btw.)**

**Please review! X3  
><strong>


	10. Chapter 10: Sweet dreams

**A/N: Only two people reviewed last chapter…where did everyone go? D: But thank you to the people who did! X3**

**Anyways, I read over the last couple of chapters again and I feel I'm starting to rush my writing slightly, so I've tried too slow it down a little in this chapter…not sure how well I've succeeded though ^^'**

**Lots of sad times for Gilbo…and I included Yakterina again, I'm so sorry, but I adore her! *can't stop listening to Carrot and Stick***

Antonio woke up abruptly in the middle of the night. Did Gilbert ever shut up?

He sighed and slipped his feet into his slippers, maybe making himself a midnight snack would help him fall to sleep again, and would give Gilbert enough time to calm down.

He headed downstairs and was surprised to see the light on in the living room. Wasn't it the middle of the night? Slightly cautious, he nudged open the door and looked down at the sofa.

Francis looked back at him, his usual glass of wine half-resting on his knee, "Ah," He said, "So ze screaming woke you too?"

Antonio grimaced, "Yeah, what the hell's he even saying?"

They both went silent for a second to listen, then Francis shrugged, "I can't tell," He indicated at the sofa, "Care to join me?"

Gilbert's shouting was just getting louder and louder, so Antonio sussed staying up for a little while probably wouldn't change anything. He sat down and picked up the TV remote from next to the bowl of tomatoes on the coffee table, "Maybe there's something good on TV." He said hopefully.

They flicked through a good few channels before they settled on a late-night showing of a film that looked relatively interesting. Antonio turned the sound up, hoping to drown out his friend's cries.

When, after a few minutes, Gilbert's shouting still hadn't ceased and Francis and Antonio could still here him very clearly over the television, Antonio pressed the mute button and leant his head back.

"Where'dya really think he's been?" He asked Francis

"I don't know." Francis sighed, "Perhaps 'e went abroad…"

Antonio was about to agree with him, but then he remembered something, "No, that can't be right."

"And why is zat?"

"He's been seeing his doctor… he's Elisaveta's friend… Toris I think his name is."

Francis looked disbelieving, "You're suggesting 'e's stayed in this town? Unbelievable! He would have come round every once in while…or we'd 'ave at least bumped into 'im once, this town's not 'uge!"

"Yeah, well, how else d'ya explain it?"

Francis pouted slightly, "But why did he drop out of school? You don't think…"

"What?"

"I zink I've got it! So he got some sort of terminal illness when 'e was eighteen, but 'e didn't want to tell anyone, so he told his family zat he was going to live with someone else, zen buggered off to live alone, or to hospital or somezing. I mean, he's been seeing only his doctor, and you can 'ardly say he looks 'ealthy."

Antonio thought for a bit, "Ya know, I think you might be right…but where does what's-his-name come into this?"

"What's-his-name?"

Antonio clicked his fingers as he remembered, "Ivan Braginski or whatever it was."

"Oh….ooooh~ Maybe 'e was a doctor who Gilbert had an affair with, or maybe 'e was just a random guy 'e dated."

"Hmm, yeah. He probably didn't spend all the time in the hospital, right? Maybe he was treated at home, maybe that's why he's so awkward around people, maybe he hasn't really been around many people. And maybe it's contagious! Maybe that's why he won't touch anyone."

Francis laughed a little, "I'm not sure about ze last part…" He sighed, "So many 'maybes'. Why won't 'e just tell us the truth? It's not like we'd judge 'im if 'e 'ad some 'orrible illness."

The screaming stopped upstairs. Gilbert must have woken up. Antonio and Francis immediately shut up. Antonio yawned slightly, "Well, now that's over, I really need to sleep. Buenos Noches, Francis."

"Bonne nuit." He smiled back.

Antonio trudged back upstairs and quietly pressed his ear to Gilbert's bedroom door; he could hear Gilbert sobbing slightly and decided not to disturb him, he would only damage his pride.

He walked back into his own room, quietly cursed himself for forgetting to make himself that midnight snack he had planned and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

><p>Gilbert stared at his face in the mirror. The bags under his eyes seemed to just be getting worse. He sighed, it had been just over three weeks since he had ran away from Ivan and however well he pushed it out of his mind during the daytime, he was unable to escape the memories in his sleep.<p>

He pushed his sweat-soaked hair out of his face and was startled at how much he actually resembled his brother when he did so.

He was worried about Ludwig. Unlike Roderich, he hadn't moved house, so Ivan could still find him quite easily. But nothing had happened to him yet, surely Ivan would have acted by now? And even if he did do something, Ludwig was tough, so he would be able to fend for himself, right?

An image of Feliciano appeared in Gilbert's mind. Young, gullible, weak Feliciano, the little man wouldn't stand a chance against someone like Ivan. And if he used him against Ludwig…

Gilbert reached over to the phone in his room and dialled his little brother's number.

After quite a few rings, he heard a very disgruntled Ludwig say, "Hallo?"

"Hey," Gilbert breathed, "It's Gilbert."

"Gilbert? Why the hell have you called me at 3 o'clock in the morning?"

"Sorry, I was worried about you."

Silence. Then, "Why were you worried about me?" Ludwig asked tentatively.

"Has anyone…weird turned up anywhere near your house?"

"Define 'weird'"

"I dunno," Gilbert replied, "Just someone you don't usually see around."

"Gil…have you gotten yourself into trouble with a gang or something?"

"…Not exactly."

"Not exactly? Then what have you done?" Ludwig sounded exasperated.

"That's not important…just take care of yourself, okay? It would be seriously unawesome if you got hurt…and keep an eye on Feliciano."

"I dread to think what you've managed to drag me into bruder."

"Sorry. Well, hope you manage to get back to sleep and all…night."

"Night." Ludwig grumbled back before hanging up.

Gilbert put down the phone and lay back down to get to sleep. But not matter how much he tossed and turned, he wasn't falling back into his slumber. He sighed and started singing, or mumbling rather, quietly to himself, "_Spi, moja radost', usni!_" It was a lullaby Yekaterina had once sung to him, a child's song, but he had liked it all the same, and it used to help him fall asleep, "_V dome pogasli ogni, Ptichki zatihli v sadu,_" He could feel his eyelids getting heavier, "_Rybki usnuli v prudu._ _Mesjac na ne…_" Before he could even finish the line, he had returned to his unwelcome dreams.

_Gilbert ran all the way home, drafting a million different lies in his head. Maybe he could just say that he wanted to leave home, get a place of his own. But his family would still want to stay in contact, how was he supposed to explain that probably wouldn't be possible? And even if it was, Ivan would most likely censor anything he tried to tell them._

_He pounded up the drive to his house and banged on the door. When no one opened it he glanced behind him. Whilst lost in his thoughts, he had completely ignored the fact that the drive was empty, devoid of his father's car. He and Ludwig must have gone out somewhere. Thank Gott._

_Gilbert searched through his bag for his house key and placed it in the lock, opening the front door. He stepped into the hallway and a weird feeling of comfort, of being _home_ engulfed him, but it was immediately quashed when he realised that he probably wouldn't be coming back any time soon, if at all. Judging by what he had seen of Ivan before, his creepy possessiveness, his need to have exactly what he wanted, asking Gilbert to 'live with him' meant not being able to go anywhere else. h no. Ivan couldn't share Gilbert with anyone._

_Gilbert walked into the kitchen and picked up a piece of notepaper from a pile of papers that were usually used for shopping lists and the pen that always lay next to them. He wasn't really sure what to write, but anything would be better than having to awkwardly face his father as he told him he didn't want anything to do with hi anymore. He was pretty sure he would start to cry if he tried that, and that would be seriously embarrassing._

_He chewed on the end of the pen for a bit before starting to write, _

Dear Dad_, he scrawled down, _I met someone recently, _well, that was true, he supposed, _I'm going to live with them, _that was true too. This was easier than he thought actually, he needn't lie at all, just twist the truth slightly. _I might be gone some time, _or forever even, _please don't try to contact me, I'll be fine, _he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket and dropped it on the table, _sorry, _and damn he was, _please give my love to Ludwig, Gilbert. _He had wanted to sign it 'love from Gilbert' but in the end he couldn't bring himself to, so his name would have to suffice._

_He picked the note up and took some sellotape out of a drawer and ran upstairs to stick it to his father's bedroom door; he was bound to see it there. Once he had done that, he walked into his own room. As usual, it was a complete and utter mess. He waded through the his clothes and CDs and such, trying to decide what to take with him. To be honest, there wasn't much point taking a lot of it, he imagined Ivan would get rid of anything he didn't like, especially all of his American music. _

_In the end, he just shoved a few clothes into his school bag and headed back downstairs, thankful that his father and Ludwig had yet to show up._

_He was about to open the door and head off when his violin caught his eye, propped up against the wall. He really wanted to take it, it was a good emotional outlet, and he had a feeling he might need one. But what if Ivan broke it? He Didn't really want to see his violin smashed to pieces, especially after how much it had cost him._

_But the violin made another thought come to his head; Roderich. He couldn't exactly tell him where he was going, he hoped that he would forget about their planned meeting the next day. And what about Antonio and Francis? He wondered as he stepped outside, and Mathias and Arthur? They would probably want to know where he had gone, but he didn't have the time to go see them all and explain. He only hoped his father would tell them that he was gone._

_At the end of the driveway, he turned around and smiled sadly, "Tschus." He said._

_He walked slowly back to the courtyard that Ivan had decided they meet at. He could feel himself shaking, and his head was screaming at him to just run back home and ring the police. But he couldn't, Roderich and Ludwig would be hurt if he did so, and he had seen, _felt_, first hand what Ivan was capable of._

_As he drew nearer, he could see Ivan sitting on one of the benches reading a book and looking oh-so-innocent. Gilbert dragged himself over to him, "I'm ready," He said shakily, although he didn't feel ready at all._

_Ivan closed his book and smiled up at Gilbert, "Good." He said simply and stood up._

_He started walking off and turned back to Gilbert, who was frozen to the spot, "Well? Are you coming?"_

_Gilbert swallowed hard, nodded and trawled after the tall Russian man. He wished someone would do something, realise that something wasn't quite right. But with their pale hair and skin, Ivan and him probably looked related, so anyone walking by would think nothing of it._

_But still he hoped that someone, _anyone_, would do something or say something. But no one did._

"_We're here!" Ivan said cheerily when they arrived at a large, menacing looking house. He strode up to the doorway and Gilbert shuffled up after him. He opened the door and smiled overly-sweetly at Gilbert, "Welcome home."_

_Gilbert frowned, he doubted he would ever be able to call this place home, but he couldn't say that to Ivan, so he simply nodded and walked inside._

_As soon as he did so, he heard the door shut and felt Ivan slam him against the wall. _Fuck_, he thought, _not again!

_He prayed to every god he had ever heard of that it would stop, even Buddha, and he wasn't even sure that Buddha _was_ a god. But he was brought back to reality when he felt Ivan's breath on his neck. "Please don't." Gilbert begged, trying to push him away. _

_He heard Ivan whisper, "But Gilbert, You're mine now, da?" and he felt Ivan's hand tugging at the waistband of his jeans._

"No!" He shouted as he shot up out of his sleep. _Again._ He threw the quilt off him and sat on the edge of his bed. He sat there for a few minutes, breathing deeply in the silence, reminding himself over and over that Ivan wouldn't be able to touch him again. A few strangled sobs escaped him as he ran into the bathroom, feeling repulsed.

He leant over the toilet and he didn't even need to stick his fingers down his throat this time, just the memories of Ivan were enough to make him throw up the entire contents of his stomach.

He heard the door open behind him and spun around, panicked. Antonio was standing there, looking half-asleep.

Gilbert grimaced at him, "Sorry, man, did I wake you up?"

Antonio yawned, "That's the second time in one night."

"Ah, sorry."

"Nah, It's alright, I haven't got to work tomorrow or anything. Ya not feeling well?"

Gilbert shook his head, "Just sickness though, I'm sure I'll get over it. Might just stay in bed tomorrow."

A strange look crossed Antonio's face, he looked almost triumphant, but then it changed to a caring smile, "Okay, I'll probably be in all day tomorrow, so feel free to ask me if you need anything."

"Thanks." Gilbert said, he was relieved Antonio was being so cool about it, especially after he had woken him up twice in the middle of the night. Or the morning even, what time was it anyway? He stood up, flushed the toilet and poured himself a glass of water, "What time is it?" He asked Antonio.

"About 5, I might just stay up to be honest, doesn't seem much point going back to sleep."

Gilbert drank the water and put the bathroom cup back in its little holder. "Well, I'm gonna get some rest, see ya later."

"See ya." Antonio responded as he yawned again and walked downstairs.

* * *

><p>Yekaterina ran the brush once again through her little's sisters long, pale hair. She smiled fondly, "What's bothering you?" she asked.<p>

Natalia frowned, "How do you know something's bothering me?"

She laughed softly as she did another stroke, "Because otherwise you always hang around Vanya; you only come to me when something's really bothering you."

Natalia smiled, extremely briefly, before her face returned to it's usual murderous expression, "It's Vanya who's bothering me." She said.

Yeakterina sighed and put the hairbrush down and waited for her half-sister to turn around before she said, "If he declined your marriage proposal again, I'm sure that's only because it's not legal in this country."

Her face became even more murderous, "Well, he is, but that's not why I'm worried."

"Oh? Then what is it?"

"That man." Natalia snarled.

"Which man?" Yekaterina asked, although she had a feeling she knew who Natalia was talking about.

"His fucking therapist."

Oh. Yekaterina had thought she was talking about Gilbert. In a way, she was glad she wasn't. Se loved Natalia, very dearly, probably more than she should do actually, but she still didn't like it when she bad-mouthed Gilbert, especially as it made her feel guilty for stopping talking to him to try and please her little brother.

"What's wrong with his therapist? I thought you chose him."

"Yes I did!" She said angrily, "So that Vanya would finally stop obsessing over that silly Gilbert man and realised that he truly loved _me_. But now that fucking chink is getting Ivan to go all obsessive over _him_."

"Natalia! You shouldn't use words like that." She frowned, "And I'm sure he's not doing it on purpose, you know what Vanya's like."

Natalia burst into tears, "But what's wrong with me? Why won't he be like that about me?"

Yekaterina smiled softly at her and pulled her into a hug, "Nothing's wrong with you, Natalia, I still love you."

She sniffed, "Yeah, but that's not the same."

Oh, but how she wished it was.

* * *

><p>Gilbert hadn't dared to go back to sleep, just lay in bed awake, staring at the clock. He wished he could go do something, but he felt seriously damn sick so he wasn't sure going out was a good idea.<p>

At quarter to eight, Antonio walked in with some breakfast, grinning. "Mornin' Gilbert! Wasn't sure if you'd be up yet." He lifted the tray he as holding, "Made ya some breakfast."

Gilbert eyed his friend suspiciously, "You're being awfully nice…did you want something?"

Antonio laughed and sat down on the edge of his bed, "Some people just like being nice Gilbert."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows disbelievingly at him and Antonio sighed, "Fine, Francis and I were talking last night." He admitted

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "What is it now? Am I pregnant?"

"What? You're pregnant?"

"No, Antonio! Guys can't get pregnant, that was a joke."

Antonio exhaled a lot of air, "Right, that's good, I don't think I could deal with that too well." He laughed slightly awkwardly, "Well, no, that's not what we thought anyway." He placed the tray next to Gilbert and looked thoughtful, "We were wondering if maybe you had an illness, 'cause you've been seeing your doctor, but seemingly not many other people and I mean, you were throwing up last night, and you're always so tired and shaky."

Gilbert stared back, he almost admitted that was the case, but he was smart enough to know that if he got himself caught up in a lie like that, it would unravel eventually, and Antonio and Francis would only be angry at him. He shook his head, "I'm ill now, sure, but I don't think it's anything serious. And can you guys stop talking about me already? It's really starting to get on my nerves."

Antonio didn't look like he believed him one bit, "We'd stop talking about you if you told us what was wrong already."

Gilbert was sick and tired of constantly trying to tell people that he was okay so he just stayed silent and picked up his coffee. Antonio sighed and stood up to leave, but when he reached the door and looked back at Gilbert, "Dude, even if you do have some illness, or you've been involved in gangs," Shit, had Ludwig talked to him?, "You can tell me and Francis about it, okay?" He grinned, "We got ya back."

Gilbert smiled at him, "Thanks." he said and for the first time in a long time, he couldn't help feeling like he was home.

**I am so, so sorry that this chapter is so insanely short, I promise from the bottom of my heart that the next one will be much longer! I've just been seriously ill recently, so keeping concentration for long enough to write is difficult .**

**Oh Francis and Antonio, how your ridiculous theories make me lol :'D but I would like to write a fic at some point looking at a character getting a chronic illness, could be interesting~**

**Please do review, if you have anything to say at all, feedback is ridiculously helpful and really cheers me up, especially whilst I'm on all these stupid drugs XD**


	11. Chapter 11: Betrayal

**A/N: I'd like to start by giving my gratitude to the ten amazing, amazing people who reviewed last chapter, that meant the world to me. But special thanks go to my friend, Alex, who made me realise how much I'd been waffling and losing direction for the last couple of chapters. Although the first scene in this chapter may seem a little random (See it as a bonus scene if you wish :P) the rest of it is more focused on the plot, and I've sped up the pace a bit.**

**Imation, your suggestions for Antonio and Francis's next theories made me laugh XD My sister and I are considering writing a crack verison of this fic...they may be included if we get round to it XD Ivan isn't part of the mafia, but his work isn't exactly clean either, I hope I can bring it up at some point during the fic...Awww, but don't judge Antonio and Francis so quickly, they do care ever so much for Gilbert ~ I have now gone back to previous chapters and added pagebreaks(I probably missed a couple though XD), I'm sorry about not doing that before, it was a bit lazy and selfish of me :/ And huge apologies to all my non-European readers! I hadn;t realised sellotape is a European thing xD It's basically just sticky clear tape~**

Gilbert spent the rest of Sunday in bed, drinking a heck load of coffee to keep himself awake.

By the next day, he was already sick of doing absolutely nothing, so despite still feeling unwell, Gilbert dragged himself out of bed and rang Arthur to see if he needed help in the pub that day.

He strolled down there at lunchtime, thankfully it was close, so he didn't feel too uncomfortable having to walk the streets so alone, so vulnerable.

He, Mathias and Arthur were all working there today, along with other staff naturally, but Gilbert tended to avoid them.

The afternoon passed slowly, people came and went and every time the door opened, Gilbert noticed that Arthur looked up hopefully, then his face would always fall when it wasn't Alfred and he would return to whatever it was he had been doing. Then again, Gilbert himself only noticed this because he also looked up every time the door opened, but for a very different reason. Although he couldn't imagine an English pub would appeal too much to Ivan, he did drink quite a bit, so there was still a good chance he might turn up.

It was ironic, therefore, that it happened to be the one person that _Mathias_ - who never seemed to notice new customers at all - might have wanted to see who walked nonchalantly through the doors at about eight pm.

Lukas Bondevick looked exactly how Gilbert remembered him from school, same height, same haircut, he even still wore that little cross barrette…hadn't Mathias bought him that?

Lukas walked up to the bar then he saw Mathias, froze for a second, and promptly turned on his heel and quickly headed back towards the entrance.

Arthur, who had looked up once again, called after him, "Don't be put off by Mathias," he smiled, "Stay for one drink at least."

The little Norwegian sighed and sat down at the bar. At the mention of his name, Mathias had turned round and a huge beam appeared on his face as he saw his ex.

"Lukas!" He grinned, clearly not noticing how much Lukas didn't want to talk to him.

Lukas glared at him, "I thought you didn't work on Mondays." He said icily.

Mathias seemed completely oblivious to the cold tone and answered, "Yeah, but I needed more money, so I'm working more hours. But that's not important! How have you been? I've missed you, I tried calling a few times, but you never picked up…"

Lord, did he ever shut up?

Lukas ordered some beer before replying, "Mathias, a 'few' times is an understatement, you still call me twice a week."

Mathias laughed sheepishly, "So how come you never pick up?"

"Don't you get it? We're over! Finished! We've been finished for months!"

Mathias frowned, "But why? I'm not exactly a bad boyfriend…I gave you everything, and everything was going so well…I still don't get why you broke up with me."

Lukas sighed, "I can't depend on you." He admitted, "Can't rely on you."

Mathias looked confused, "How do you mean?"

"You don't even have a proper job Mathias, and you spend your money foolishly…usually on beer." He stood up, "Forget this, I'm leaving." He looked at Mathias again, and Gilbert couldn't help noticing that he actually looked quite sad, but Mathias probably hadn't noticed a thing. As Lukas turned to go, Mathias reached out and grabbed his hand.

"I can change." He pleaded, looking vaguely serious for once, "I can go back to University, try and get a degree, I'll get a proper job, anything!" He returned to his usual grin, "Heck, I'd really do anything for you, I'd get down on my knees and sing at the top of my voice if you wanted me to!"

"Please don't…" Gilbert heard Arthur mutter.

Lukas looked as if he was about to cry as he yelled back, "Just stop it!"

Mathias let go of his hand, shocked, and stood back. Lukas gave him a pained look, "You just don't get it!" He burst into tears. Mathias looked taken aback. Lukas continued, "When we were dating….you always did this. I'd make any minor comment about how you acted and you'd feel obliged to change yourself for me. You never realised that I loved you because you were _you_." He sounded slightly hysterical now, "Not because you were someone I was turning you into."

Mathias stared back in surprise for a few seconds before saying, "So what you're saying is that…you love me?"

If Lukas hadn't been so upset, Gilbert was pretty sure he would have face-palmed. "You're such an idiot, Mads…" He mumbled.

Mathias smiled at the use of his nickname before announcing, "Here's a deal, no matter how much you criticise me, no matter how much you whine and complain, " Lukas glowered at him, "I'll just brush it off, I'll try to stay like…me, I guess. This will be the last ever thing I change for you. Promise."

Lukas sighed, "We're in public…this is really embarrassing…"

Mathias simply shrugged, "I'm a pretty embarrassing person." He grinned, "So…you wanna try again?"

Lukas looked at his feet, blushing, and slowly nodded. Mathias laughed loudly, ecstatically before pulling Lukas into a bone-crushing hug and lifting him of his feet.

"Put me down, you idiot!" Lukas grumbled, but his mouth kept twitching as if he was trying very hard not to smile. Mathias eventually put him down and kissed him very passionately on the mouth. In front of everyone. A few men near the back of the pub looked alarmed, but some young women nearby squealed with delight. Was that a thing with young women these days?

Arthur was trying to look anywhere but at his friend. He had a look of obvious jealousy apparent on his face. Mathias reuniting with Lukas probably just made him feel unbearably lonely.

Gilbert couldn't help mimicking that feeling; he had never been in a proper relationship with anyone, sure he had been involved in a few flings in secondary school, but that was it. That was a pretty lonely feeling, but now that he was surrounded by so many people, but he couldn't bring himself to tell any of them what had happened, wouldn't open up to anyone. And that, more than anything, was what made him feel alone.

He picked up some empty plates from a table that a family had just vacated and decided that as soon as he got home, he would arrange to see Elisaveta and arrange to see her again.

For the next week, Gilbert kept himself busy either working at the bar with Arthur and Matthias, hanging out in the Oxenstiernas' café with Elisaveta or simply chatting and relaxing at home with Antonio and Francis. He could feel his life finally settling into a comfortable routine, broken only by his sleepless nights.

* * *

><p>Roderich pushed his windswept hair out of his face as he stepped into the café and pulled his umbrella down. It was a shame, really, that it had to rain, the weather had been getting much warmer, and he preferred it that way. Then again, the rainy weather gave him an excuse to stop off at Tino's for cake, and any excuse for cake was a good one.<p>

He enjoyed baking himself, but he had been having lots of rehearsals for an important concert recently, and didn't really feel he had the energy to make anything, so a bought cake would have to suffice.

He walked up to the counter and flashed a small, but warm, smile at Tino. He liked the couple that owned the café, not only did they make good cake, but they were friendly and the taller one of the two, Berwald, seemed to like giving people more than what they ordered, and Roderich just loved getting things cheap, and free was even better.

Tino smiled back, but there was a small look of worry on his face and he glanced briefly at his husband, who simply nodded stoically at him. "What would you like?" He asked Roderich.

"The Mazarin tart looks lovely, I'll have some of that."

"Sure!" He cut him a slice and handed the plate over to him. As Roderich was paying, he cautiously said, "Your fiancée's been coming here a lot lately."

Roderich accepted the plate off him and gave him a quizzical look, "That's hardly surprising," he said, "She loves it here."

He walked over to the table by the window that he always sat at with Elisaveta. Not that he thought about it, they hadn't come here in a few weeks. He frowned, she was working today, but perhaps he would take her at the weekend.

He glanced out the window at the still pouring rain, and registered that Tino's reflection was there. He looked round and up at him, "Yes?"

Tino looked warily again at his husband before talking, "She's been coming in here a lot with another guy." He said.

Roderich sighed slightly as Berwald placed a cup of coffee down in front of him. He smiled; he had hoped he might. "I'm aware Elisaveta has a lot of male friends, but I assure you nothing is going on." He smiled again, "They're all gay anyway."

Tino bit his lip, "I know all about Toris and Feliks, and all her other friends, but I don't know this guy…"

Roderich looked up at him, "I appreciate your concern, Tino, but I'm pretty sure my fiancée isn't seeing someone else. Seriously, I don't think she has a single straight male friend."

Tino smiled, "Okay, I was just a little worried." He smiled brightly, "You two make such a sweet couple! But this guy she always comes in here with…he's a bit weird, he has this _shocking_ white hair and -"

Before Tino had finished, Roderich had sprayed all off the coffee he had just sipped out of his mouth. Oh, how unrefined! "What did you say? White hair?"

Tino nodded, "And red eyes, I don't think he's from round here…"

Roderich felt his heart sink, so Elisaveta was in regular contact with Gilbert, and she hadn't told him. Why not? Maybe Gilbert had told her how hostile he had been towards him…he scowled, not that he didn't deserve it, he had never even given him an explanation before running off with someone else.

He looked up at Tino, his voice shaking slightly, "Why did you tell me this? Did it seem like they were close?"

Tino bit his lip in worry again, "I'm not sure, the first time they came they were both acting pretty awkward and Elisaveta looked like she was trying to walk out on him at one point…But it was just the little things, you know? He'd offer to pay for her, and after the first time, they would sit talking and laughing for ages."

If possible, Roderich felt his heart sink further, "What days do they usually come in here?"

"Well, last week they were here on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday."

He thought back to those days, Elisaveta hadn't been home directly after work as she usually was. She said she had more work to do and that she had been 'out with friends'. He hadn't suspected a thing, he never thought Elisaveta might be cheating on him, although so far he didn't sound like she was sleeping with him, or he hoped not anyway.

He put down the coffee cup which he had simply held suspended since he had found out who Tino was talking about and relaxed back in the chair. Tino looked for a third time at his husband for support, Berwald walked a little closer too him, probably so that he felt a little more confident.

Tino sighed, "I'm sorry Roderich, I'm sure it's nothing."

He nodded, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair he was sitting in and his hand resting over his mouth, he felt like crying. But gentlemen didn't cry, especially not in public, so he simply swallowed and stood up. Tino looked surprised, "It's rare for you not to finish cake."

"Sorry," he said as he picked up his umbrella, "I've lost my appetite."

* * *

><p>It was Tuesday, and Gilbert had already given Arthur prior warning that he wouldn't be working that afternoon. He wiped his feet as he strode into the café. Damn rainy weather.<p>

Elisaveta was already sitting in her usual spot with a cup of tea, staring absently out the window, probably waiting for him. He walked over, "Boo." He said monotonously.

She jumped slightly before seeing him and smiling, "Hey." She said, "How are you feeling?"

He flopped down in the chair opposite her before answering, "Fine," He said, "You?"

She nodded and took a sip of her tea, "I'm good, thanks. You want anything to eat or drink?"

"Actually, I'm starving, do they do any sandwiches here?"

"I think so, I usually just come in here for the sweet stuff though."

He ordered himself some lunch before falling back into his seat, he looked at Elisaveta, "You know, you haven't told me how you and Roderich met." He wanted to know, it had been bugging him for while, it seemed like a cruel twist of fate that those two had met.

Elisaveta laughed softly, "That's a _very_ long story."

Gilbert grinned and threw his hands into the air, "Well, I'm not going anywhere!"

She looked thoughtful for a second, then placed her tea down and sighed, "Well, first I'll probably have to explain how I ended up in the situation that he found me in…" She frowned, "I, er, I'm not entirely proud of everything I've been involved in in my life." She looked out the window again, then back at Gilbert.

He smiled reassuringly back at her, "None of us are."

She sighed again, "When I went into sixth form, my best friend started getting pretty obsessive over a guy from another school. She'd go on a bout him a lot, but apparently he never took any notice of her." She sipped her tea again, "She found out by asking around that he had only dated one other person, a guy. I thought that might put her off, but it just made her even more obsessive. She started talking about wanting to start cross-dressing, to see if he would notice her if she looked like a guy." Elisaveta smiled slightly, but it was a slightly sad smile, "She was too scared to actually go ahead with it though, until I offered to do it with her, I'd acted like a boy for the first eleven years of my life, so I was a little more confident in my ability to pass as a guy than her.

"So we both cut our hair, bound our chests, experimented with different make-up and clothes to make ourselves look more masculine. It started becoming a regular occurrence for us. At school, no one knew, we just acted like we always had, but after school and at the weekends we'd go out as guys. I always had to get ready at her house though, my parents would have been livid if they had known.

"One of the times, I met a guy in a bar, I thought he was pretty cool and we became good friends." Her face twisted slightly, and she paused for a little, she seemed a little reluctant to carry on. Gilbert didn't press her, he knew all about not wanting to talk about bad experiences. But after a minute, she seemed to pick up her confidence again and carried on, "He was called Sadiq, and I found out soon enough that he was involved in a gang, they called themselves the 'Ottomans', after the Ottoman empire, because it used to be the biggest bully in the playground, so to speak, that's kind of how they saw themselves…I was bored of my perfect little private school life, so I started getting involved with them too." She closed her eyes momentarily, but still she carried on, "Most of the gang got on with me pretty well, they all thought I was a guy anyway."

The frown lines that had appeared on her brow deepened, "Gang culture is pretty sexist, this gang, and all the rival gangs I knew, consisted almost entirely of men. The only girls involved in the gangs were pretty much just there for sex appeal, street cred," She pulled a disgusted face, "so, naturally, I was always terrified that they would find out that I was actually female, I used the name 'Hungary' whilst round them" Her face turned to a smile briefly, "It kind of stuck, no one questioned it, they probably just thought it was a nickname, a few people went by nicknames. Thankfully, I made a pretty convincing man, and I spent years with them, doing things I really wish I hadn't." She picked uncomfortably at her sleeve, "By the time we were twenty-one, Lily, my best friend, had managed to win Vash's heart, he was the guy she liked, apparently he was bisexual.

"So Lily stopped cross-dressing, I still did it around the gang, but I went out with her as a girl now." She sighed, "Which was a _big _mistake. We were out clubbing one night, and I hadn't realised that quite a few people from the Ottomans were there. When I saw them, I panicked slightly, I hoped they wouldn't recognise me. They didn't appear to at first, Sadiq even offered to buy me a drink." She laughed, "But one of the guys, Fane, he had never liked me, we had always fought and he was watching me quite closely. I was really scared by then, I told Lily I wanted to go, but she really wanted to stay. I think my panic must have given me away, I saw Fane whispering to Sadiq and the others and they started looking at me. I completely lost it then, I told Lily I was going, and left her there, she was probably safer there actually. I just legged it, which, believe me, isn't easy when you're wearing heels.

"They ran after me, Fane was jeering at me, and I was so damn scared…thankfully I was fast at running, so I was able to stop for a second and rip my shoes off, so I could run barefoot. Eventually, I got to a courtyard, and there was someone sitting there." She smiled slightly, "I thought it was one of the gang at first and I stopped running, not thinking for a second. Fane caught up with me and grabbed me, he was still jeering, and he slapped me round the face.

"The guy who was sitting in the courtyard ran over," she smiled, "It was Roderich, although I didn't know his name at the time of course, I just thought he was some rich guy who couldn't help sticking his nose into other people's business…which I suppose he is but that's not really the point right now." she giggled again, "You should have seen him, he was so funny, he was all 'Leave the lady alone!'," she grimaced, "Of course, that just made Fane, and the rest of them, laugh, they didn't think I was a 'lady' at all, just a slut. Roderich carried on defending me though, and they went away, I'm not sure why, maybe it's because it looked like Roderich had a lot of money, and they were worried that he might have ties to a rival gang, or maybe they were afraid that he had called the police."

She looked slightly more relaxed now as she continued, "After they left, Roderich helped me up - Fane had pushed me to the floor when he had walked over - and offered to take me home. I was pretty weary, I mean, I wasn't wearing much, he could have quite easily taken advantage of me, but I really just wanted to get home, and call Lily to tell her where I'd gone, so I took a risk and let him take me home. But of course, Roderich's a prefect gentleman, although at the time I thought he was just really gay." She laughed again, "Before I got out of the car, I left him my number, and told him I'd try and repay him someday." she sighed, "And that's pretty much how we met, I started seeing a lot more of him, and I started becoming friends with Antonio, who I found out also knew him, so our lives ended up intertwining a lot," she smiled, "And now we're engaged, who would've known…" She picked up her tea and drained it, then her eyes widened, "Speak of the devil," She said and smiled, "Hi, Roderich!"

Gilbert turned around so that he could see the door where a very pissed-off looking Roderich was standing. "Yo." Gilbert said to him as he walked over to them.

Roderich scowled, "Anyone care to tell me what the hell is going on?" He demanded.

Elisaveta looked blank, "Huh?"

Roderich looked like he was about to burst, "Don't act like you don't know what I mean! Suddenly, you're hardly ever at home because you're 'out with friends'." He glared at Gilbert, "When I'm pretty sure something else is going on."

Elisaveta's face fell when she realised what Roderich meant, "Roderich, I'm not cheating on you," she said levelly, "Gilbert's just a friend."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Priss, you are _medieval_, I swear. Elisaveta's a person, she doesn't belong to you, she can do what she wants."

Roderich glared at Gilbert again, "Shut up, Gilbert."

Gilbert heard the little bell that was attached to the café door tinkle again as someone walked into the café, he glanced behind him, and froze. He pulled the hood of the red hoody he was wearing over his head and looked down at his lap, he could feel his whole body starting to shake and he held the table for support.

Roderich gave a him a weird look, "Gilbert, what the hell are you doing?"

"Don't say my name!" Gilbert hissed, he could feel sweat starting to drip down his face, he needed to get out of here, fast, but there was only one door, and he didn't dare go towards it, not with _him_ standing so close to it.

Elisaveta gave him a worried look, and even Roderich's anger seemed to abate slightly. Slightly. "And why the hell not?" Roderich asked.

Gilbert was shaking uncontrollably by now, and he was pretty sure that he had started muttering to himself, trying to convince himself that he would be alright. Roderich was staring at him like he was crazy, "Gilbert," He repeated, "why the hell not?"

Gilbert glared up at him, "Please," he begged, "Just don't."

But it was far too late for that.

The man at the entrance to the café turned towards their table; a curious smile danced on his lips and there was an almost greedy look in his eyes. He walked over to them.

"Gilbert," Ivan crooned, in a voice that made Gilbert immediately want to throw up, "Long time, no see! I've missed you."

**:O Ivan's finally in it! Like, properly! *happy dance* Wait-why am I happy at that? XD**

**Anyway, I'm at a pride parade tomorrow, so I probably won't be able to update, and I'll be sewing my sister's Hungary cosplay on Sunday...but I'll see what I can do! I love writing this fic too darn much X3**

**Thank you for all the support so far, and please do review! *hugs you all***

**EDIT: Forgot to mention, 'Mads' is the Danish short form of 'Matthias', in case I didn't make that too clear (I only know this cause I had an Oc called that :'D). And 'Fane' can be whoever you want really, but he's kind of my head-canon for Romania, because Hungary apparently hates Romania~  
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	12. Chapter 12: Anger

**A/N: I'd like to start by apologising profusely for the ridiculously late upload, I was at Birmingham Pride parade all day on Saturday, and I was knackered by the time I got hom (Had an awesome time though 3~). Then on Sunday I was tackling the collar for my sister's Hungary cosplay (I had to redo it about 4 times xD orz.)**

**Then I was like, time to write! And I got distract by reading 'Sing You Home' (which is amazing, go read it!) and watching Hitler: The rise of Evil, which was quite useful, 'cause the way Hitler's relationships with his niece and Eva are depicted is kind of the thing I'm going for with Ivan and Gilbo :'D**

**Anyway, thank you to the incredible people who reviewed, and also just to those who are reading and enjoying it! It makes me so happy to know that people all over the world are reading my fanfiction X3**

**One thing I forgot to mention a while ago, from Chapter 10 onwards, I'm writing all the Russian phonetically, it was getting really stressful trying to get it all in the Russian alphabet XD  
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When he was younger, Gilbert rarely ever listened to his father. If he told him not to ride his bike without his helmet on, chances were he would take it off as soon as he was out of sight, or if he told him to tidy his room, he would simply shove everything under his bed, convincing himself he would do it another time.

Every time he saw his dad for a few days afterwards, he would feel guilty as hell, and even though there was usually no way his dad could have known he had disobeyed him, it still felt like he knew.

In an odd sort of way, that was how he felt right now as he slowly lifted his head to look at Ivan. Even though he knew he hadn't done anything wrong, in Ivan's eyes, that wasn't the case. In Ivan's eyes, Gilbert had disobeyed his orders, and that made Gilbert feel guilty, as if he really had done something wrong. But more, so much more, than guilt; he felt fear.

He couldn't really see a way out of this situation. Roderich and Elisaveta had no idea who Ivan was, what he had done, so they would probably do nothing. The only thing he could feasibly do was run, but his body felt heavy, stuck. He opened his mouth to speak, but it had gone bone dry and he couldn't make a sound.

Thankfully, Roderich chose that moment to interrupt. He looked at Ivan, obviously quite annoyed that he had intruded on their conversation, if indeed that's what it had been, "Excuse me, but who are you?"

Ivan completely ignored him and kept his eyes trained on Gilbert, who, by this time, was pretty sure he was going to burst into very unawesome tears at any second.

For the last few weeks, Gilbert had started to wonder more and more if everything that had happened was all in his head, had started to wonder whether he really had been in a coma and just dreamt the whole thing up. It just hadn't seemed real, or it felt like it had happened to someone else, and Gilbert had simply been left with their scars.

But seeing Ivan, so close, so real, made Gilbert realise that however much he wished it had all been a bad dream, it was so much more. Everything over the past eight years had happened, and, if he didn't get out of this damn café fast, would probably happen all over again. And he was sure he could bear that.

He stared back at Ivan. He knew his fear must have sown on his face, but he made sure he didn't cry; he couldn't let Ivan know he was upset, because with his twisted sense of logic, he would most likely come to the conclusion that Gilbert was upset because he wasn't with him anymore.

Ivan cocked his head ever so slightly to the side before saying, with a small frown, "Why did you leave?"

Gilbert almost laughed; was he joking? Was he honestly asking that? Why did he leave? Why did he _fucking_ leave?

He was furious now, and almost picked up the courage to speak, when Roderich angrily interjected again, but this time his frustration was directed at Gilbert, "Oh, so is this someone else you heartlessly abandoned?"

Gilbert glanced at Roderich, he wasn't really sure what to say to that, but he certainly wouldn't call his escape from Ivan's 'heartless'. He turned away and caught they eyes of a few people in the café who were staring at the commotion they were causing.

In fact, pretty much everyone was staring. Roderich and Elisaveta were staring at Gilbert, who in turn had looked back at Ivan, who had finally acknowledged Roderich; Peter and Tino Oxenstierna were holding hands and looking on horrified with the rest of the customers. Berwald, however, had eyes only for his husband.

Ivan spoke again, "What a surprise!" He said, mock-happy, sickly-sweet smile returning to his face, "Roderich, I didn't expect to see you around."

Roderich looked alarmed and his head moved quickly between Gilbert and Ivan, eventually settling on the latter and scowling, "How on Earth do you know my name?" He turned to Gilbert, "Is this something to do with you?" Gilbert still had yet to say anything, he wasn't sure he could. But then again, Roderich and Ivan weren't giving him anytime to respond.

"Da, Gilbert mentioned you." Ivan said. _Liar._

Roderich looked surprised, but a little pleased. Gilbert doubted he would be as pleased if he knew that Ivan knew who he was because he used to stalk them.

Ivan smiled, Gilbert wished he would stop, that fucking fake smile was really starting to grate at him, especially as it seemed to be working on Roderich and Elisaveta. "Would you two mind giving Gilbert and I a little time alone?"

Elisaveta started collecting her stuff together and smiled back, "Oh, not at all! Sorry if we intruding." She glanced worriedly at Roderich, "I think we need to talk anyway."

Gilbert stared at them in horror, "Please don't go." He finally managed to croak out.

Elisaveta gave him a comforting smile, "Gilbert, talking to your ex" -Is that who she thought he was?- "For a little while probably won't kill you."

"He's not my ex." He shot back quickly.

She looked a little taken aback before Ivan's smile grew a little wider, "Oh no, Gilbert and I aren't over yet, da?"

Gilbert shuddered and looked back at Roderich and Elisaveta, trying to silently plead with them to stay. But Roderich had already turned away and Elisaveta was walking to him as she slipped her coat on. Ivan's expression stayed on his smile, but Gilbert could see that his eyes were a whole different story. He was angry. _Really _angry. Gilbert felt Gilbird nestle a little further into his hair where he had buried himself, and wished he could hide that easily.

"Ivan!" Someone suddenly shouted; it wasn't a voice Gilbert recognised and when he turned to the sound of the noise, a livid, small Asian man was standing there. His arms -which were hidden by sleeves far too long for him - were crossed angrily across his chest and he was staring defiantly at Ivan. Gilbert was pretty sure he had a death wish.

Ivan looked over at the man and the anger in his eyes diminished as quickly as it had come, "Yao!" He said warmly.

Yao stormed over and looked up at Ivan. Damn, he was tiny! He glared, "What did I say about leaving Gilbert alone? You need to find different ways of letting your anger out." He frowned, "More appropriate ways." He said the last bit quietly, but Gilbert and Ivan could hear it clearly.

Yao now turned to Gilbert and he smiled slightly, "I'm sorry about that, we'll be leaving." He turned back to Ivan, his tone softening, "Let's go find somewhere else to eat, there's a nice Russian place not too far from here."

Ivan pouted slightly before sighing, "Fine, Bye Gilbert…see you around, da?" there was a slightly malicious glint in his eye as he said the last bit and Gilbert dreaded to think what that was supposed to translate to. Most likely, 'I'm going to make sure I see you again', and Gilbert was pretty sure that if there was a next time, Ivan would make sure he wasn't interrupted by the small Asian man.

Gilbert sat there for a good ten minutes after Ivan had left, just trying to learn how to breathe normally again. He pulled his hood down and stroked Gilbird slightly, "It's okay dude," He said quietly, "He's gone now."

Eventually, Tino walked over with a cup of coffee and put it down in front of Gilbert and smiled kindly, "So I see you're acquainted with Ivan Braginski. Lucky you." He added sarcastically.

Gilbert shakily picked up the coffee, "You know him?"

Tino nodded, "He used to come in here a bit before I married Berwald. He doesn't come as often now though, which is good, because he creeps me out a little."

Gilbert laughed slightly bitterly. Oh really? He sipped the coffee, he assumed it would make him feel better, but it just made him feel sick, and he wanted to go, whilst he was in here, all he seemed to be able to think about was Ivan. It was becoming suffocating. Damn, he need to get out of here quickly.

He shot up, dropping the coffee cup to the floor, and running as fast as he could out of the café. Roderich and Elisaveta had left, so he had no means of transport. He tried to remember the route Elisaveta had taken by car. It wasn't too hard seeing as he always spent every journey with his eyes glued to the world outside.

To be honest, though, he didn't really know where he was heading. The person he really wanted to see right now was his dad, and he wanted to be eight years old again, when he believed that his dad knew everything, and could protect him from everything. He knew that wasn't the case anymore, of course, but he still wanted to see him, yet he had no idea at all how to get to his house from town, he had only been once from Ludwig's and spent the whole journey completely spaced out. Damn wandering thoughts.

The second person that came to mind was Yekaterina, she had been the comfort he had turned to so many years ago, but he couldn't very well go to see her now.

Instead, he found himself at Ludwig's house. Although Antonio and Francis's house was feeling more and more like home, all of his memories of before Ivan lay here, at his old house, so he felt more comfortable coming here right now. He banged on the door hard with his fist and as soon as it was opened, he ran past his little brother before he could say a word and stumbled into his old bedroom. He slammed the door behind him as hen entered and slid down it until he was on the floor.

He could feel anger starting to bubble inside of him now, anger at the world, for being so fucking cruel to him, what the hell had he done to deserve this? He was angry at Roderich and Elisaveta too, they couldn't have known what Ivan had done to him, why he was so terrified of him, but surely they must have known that something was up! He was angry at Ivan too, how couldn't he be? He had royally fucked up his life, he couldn't go a day without freaking out, couldn't grow through a night without waking up in fear, couldn't even trust his closest friends all because of one man.

He glanced at his pitiful self in the mirror and scowled. Maybe it wasn't all Ivan's fault after all, maybe it was his own damn fault for talking to him all those years ago, for getting close to people so that they could be used against him. He hoped Ivan hadn't paid much attention to Elisaveta, or she would probably be added to Ivan's sick little list of people to use against him.

He slowly pulled himself off his feet and walked over to the mirror, he placed his palm on the cool glass, wishing he could just melt into the mirror, go somewhere where there was no Ivan, no one but himself. But that world didn't fucking exist.

He stared at himself for a short while longer, feeling more and more resent towards his weakness building up, why couldn't he have just stood up to Ivan? That little Asian man looked like he could have been easily overpowered by Ivan, and yet he had stood up to him. And Toris - who now Gilbert thought about, he couldn't help realising he hadn't seen him in a while - had always stood up for himself too.

It was just him, he had just let Ivan walk all over him. He was too fucking weak! He smashed the mirror to pieces, not being able to bear to look at himself anymore. Gilbird tweeted, alarmed, and flew away slightly. Gilbert fell to the floor amongst all the broken glass and burst into tears. He stared at all the sharp, shattered pieces of glass around him and he knew that no matter how long he spent piecing them all back together again, he would never get it quite like it was before, broken things couldn't always be fixed so easily. Broken people couldn't always be fixed so easily either.

Why couldn't it have just not gone wrong in the first place? Why couldn't he just start again? He looked upwards and said between tears, "Y'know, if there is some sort of God up there, now would be a bloody good time for a miracle."

Nothing happened. Well, what did he expect? He stared at his reflection in a shard of the mirror, why did it have to happen to him anyway? Then again, he was given a choice, Ivan could have take Roderich instead, or Ludwig, and surely they would have been alright…

Suddenly the door slammed open and a very worried Ludwig came into the room. Gilbert felt his face drain of colour and the guilty feeling he had felt earlier returned, eating away at his gut. Had he seriously just considered letting his little brother got through what he had?

Ludwig took one look at the mirror shards, then at Gilbert and his face relaxed slightly and he crouched down. "Gilbert." He said calmly, "What's wrong?"

Gilbert sobbed slightly, he hated his brother seeing him like this, but there wasn't much he could do about that now. "What _isn't _wrong?"

Frown lines appeared on Ludwig's brow, "Bruder, I don't know what you're talking about."

Of course he didn't, and there was no way Gilbert was telling him, he just couldn't. He couldn't even think about Ivan without feeling repulsed, without feeling like he was right there, without feeling like he was _touching _him. He shuddered, did Ivan have control over every little thing in his life?

He picked up one of the mirror shards and twirled it around in his hand. Ludwig's eyes widened slightly as he looked at it. "Gilbert," He muttered worriedly, "Don't do anything stupid."

Gilbert looked at him, but it hardly even felt like he was there, he kept thinking he was back at Ivan's, but he wasn't right? And this wasn't just some crazy dream? He looked down at the mirror shard, and before Ludwig could stop him, he plunged it into his thigh.

Ludwig cried out, "What the fuck, Gilbert?" He reached forward to pull it out but Gilbert flinched away from him. Ludwig leant back but continued talking, "Why the hell did you do that?"

Gilbert yanked it out and stared at the blood that was now pooling out of the wound. He looked up at Ludwig, "Have you ever felt like you're not in control? Like someone else is leading your life for you? And sometimes you've just gotta do something…something to make you feel real."

Ludwig had the same look that Roderich had before, he looked like he was talking to a crazy person. And to be honest, Gilbert wouldn't be surprised if he was starting to go crazy. "I really have no damn clue what you're on about."

Gilbert shook his head, "It doesn't matter." He muttered, "Anyway, I should clean this up." He waved his hand at his leg and then at the glass shards on the floor. "And I need a shower." He stood up and winced as he put pressure on his right leg, where he had stabbed himself. "Do you mind if I stay here tonight?"

Ludwig shook his head, his mouth was clamped shut and Gilbert could tell he was upset, he wasn't crying or anything, but Ludwig didn't cry, he just went very quiet when he was upset, it's what he always had done, and it's what he was doing now.

Gilbert sighed and left the room, limping slightly into the bathroom. He washed the wound on his leg and searched the cupboards until he found a bandage; the shard had been to wide for a plaster to suffice.

He got into the shower and stood awkwardly so that as little water as possible was getting onto the bandage, then he put the heat of the water as cold as he could and stood there for hours, letting himself go numb, until he couldn't feel anything at all, until it felt like he would never be able to feel again.

* * *

><p>Ludwig walked down the stairs slowly, listening to the sounds in the bathroom. He had razors in there, what if Gilbert tried to hurt himself again? He tried not to think about it too much and walked back into the living room, where he had been talking to Feliciano before his brother had ran inside and upstairs. He assumed he had just needed some time alone, he didn't realise how upset he was.<p>

Feliciano looked up and smiled as he walked in, but the smile lessened slightly when he saw the look on Ludwig's face. He walked over to his boyfriend and wrapped his arms around him, "Veh? Is he alright?"

Ludwig nodded stoically, but he knew Feliciano wouldn't believe him. Feliciano sighed and pulled him closer, "What was the shattering glass, then?"

Ludwig's jaw tightened, "Just a broken mirror," he said, "Nothing to worry about…I should probably clean it up actually." Feliciano released him and followed it back upstairs.

Ludwig walked into Gilbert's room and started pick up all the shards, being careful not to scratch himself. He saw Feliciano's eyes widen slightly as he walked in, but he was thankful when he didn't point out that one of the shards was covered in blood.

* * *

><p>Gilbert didn't get out of the shower until he could hear someone cooking downstairs. He stepped out and wrapped a towel around him, shivering, before running to his room. He had left some of his clothes here so he had stuff to wear.<p>

The floor was now devoid of glass, and it looked like Ludwig had tried to scrub the blood off the floor, there was still a faint stain though.

Gilbert pulled on some clothes, wincing as the material of his jeans scraped against his leg slightly, and walked, or rather limped, downstairs.

He walked into the kitchen, where, surprisingly, it was Ludwig who was cooking and Feliciano was just sitting on the side, swinging his legs and talking animatedly to Ludwig…who didn't look like he was even trying to listen.

He went over to his brother, "Hey."

Ludwig jumped slightly, he had obviously been lost in his thoughts and he smiled slightly at Gilbert, "Hey." He returned, "You feeling any better?"

Feliciano was looking on interestedly and Gilbert was beginning to feel a little self-conscious. He nodded all them same, "Yeah, sorry about that, bad day."

Ludwig slammed his fist down on the kitchen counter, "Damnit Gilbert, do you always do crazy shit like that when you've had a bad day."

Gilbert jumped at Ludwig's outburst, but slowly shook his head, "No," he said quietly, "Sorry."

Ludwig pulled his hands through his hair and sighed, "Okay, just don't do that again," He looked at Gilbert, a slightly lost look in his eye, "Please don't do that again."

**Yeah, quite a short chapter, and mostly just emotion…especially anger (hence the title). Damn, this was really, **_**really**_ **hard to write though, I kept bursting into tears in frustration, and I'm really sorry if I've let you guys down with a shitty chapter.**

**I'm taking a short break to write a PoLiet one-shot that I found on the Hetalia kink meme, but then I'll be working on Chapter 13. (To be honest, I'll probably update within the next couple of days still.) **

**Please, please review! I love to know what you guys think!**


	13. Chapter 13: Music

**A/N: Late update is late! I'm so sorry D:**

**Thank you to everyone who's stuck with this story so far, and especially to those who have reviewed, I cannot describe in words how happpy that makes me :3**

**This chapter starts a little awfully, but I think it improves as it goes on. (Damn writer's block D:)  
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Gilbert knew he should go to work, but the more he thought about it, the less appealing it seemed. He couldn't even bring himself to drag himself out of bed to call Arthur, so he just lay there staring at the spot on the wall where his mirror had been the day before.

It was mid-afternoon by the time anything at all happened. Gilbert was still simply sitting there, when his door opened and Ludwig walked in. Gilbert felt his body tense slightly as Ludwig closed the door behind him, but tried to appear relaxed; it's not like Ludwig would ever hurt him.

Ludwig sighed and leant against the door, "Antonio told me you were starting to act more like yourself." He stated calmly, "What happened?"

Gilbert frowned, "What do you mean?"

Ludwig gave him a disbelieving look, "You're locking yourself away again, like you did when you first came home…I haven't seen you all day." He scrutinised Gilbert, "And you don't look like you've slept a wink."

Gilbert made to look in the mirror, but then remembered it wasn't there and tried to see his reflection in the window instead, he still couldn't, but he supposed he must have huge bags under his eyes. He ran his hand through his hair, "I'm just feeling a little ill," he lied, "It's nothing to worry about."

Ludwig sighed again, "But I _am_ worried, Gil. You can't just hide away forever, you know? Sitting in your room like this solves nothing."

Gilbert knew he was right, he needed to get out, he needed to start becoming more comfortable with people. But now that he knew there was a chance he could run into Ivan again, he was more scared than ever before of opening up. And to be honest, he had become so used to hiding away in his room at Ivan's house that it had become natural to him, almost comforting. That thought scared him slightly; that he could only feel normal when he was living like he had at Ivan's. He had hoped that running away would make him feel free, but now he just felt even more trapped than he had before.

He drew his arms across his chest and frowned, he couldn't go back to Ivan's, he just _couldn't_, but now that he thought about it, the only other time he had really felt normal since leaving Ivan's was when he had stabbed himself the day before, when he was hurt. His life at Ivan's had become so suffocating, that it seemed to be all he knew. He slammed his head back against the wall, "Fuck."

Ludwig frowned, "What?"

Gilbert shook his head, "Nothing." He stood up, trying to appear normal, but he could feel himself shaking, "I suppose I should do something then."

Ludwig raised his eyebrows suspiciously but then shrugged and opened Gilbert's door, "I'll make you some food, you look like you could do with some energy."

"Don't bother, I'm not that hungry," Gilbert said, although he could feel his stomach protesting, " And I wanna get back home anyway." He walked past Ludwig and headed downstairs, he pulled his shoes on and was about to leave, but when he opened the door, he couldn't actually bring himself to step outside. What if Ivan was just round the corner? Or waiting for him somewhere along the route? He shuddered, and for the first time he felt he might actually feel better in a car. He spun round, "Ludwig!" He shouted, "You mind driving me there?"

Ludwig walked down the stairs, "Sure, I haven't got anything better to do anyway." He pulled his keys off the side of the kitchen table and walked outside. Gilbert hovered quite close to his little brother, he didn't really like to be close to people, but right now he didn't really want to be alone either.

When they got to Antonio's house and Gilbert opened his door, Ludwig turned to him, "Gilbert, whatever you do, don't just hibernate in your room."

Gilbert grinned at him, "Don't worry, I won't." He promised, but as he walked inside, he headed straight upstairs, turned right, and buried himself under his covers, hoping that Antonio wouldn't tell Ludwig.

He spent the rest of the week in bed again, he was too scared to go out, not that he admitted that to his friends; he just told them he was feeling really unwell, and that wasn't really too hard to believe. Or so he thought.

On Saturday, he received a phone call. He considered ignoring it, what if it was Ivan, after all? But the ringing was really starting to get to him, so he picked it up, "Hello?" He asked tiredly.

"Hey Gilbert." Ah, it was Elisaveta. He smiled slightly and sat up.

"Hey Lizzy, what's up?"

"I'm fine, but Antonio tells me you've been moping about recently."

"Does he ever keep his gob shut?"

She laughed, "I'm afraid not. Anyway, there's no way I'm letting you get away with that."

"Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?"

"Well, I was going to be going to one of Roderich's concerts with Lily - I mentioned her before remember, my best friend from secondary school? - but she had to cancel last minute because she's going somewhere with Vash. So, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?"

"Oh my, is this a date?" He teased.

"Shut up, it's not a date…But I wouldn't tell Roderich I'm bringing you along anyway." She sighed slightly.

Gilbert frowned, "Is something up?"

"It's Roderich…He seems upset, I think he genuinely believes I'm cheating on him."

"Pfft. Then he can go fuck himself. I'll be there, okay?"

"Thanks, the concert starts at seven, so try to be at my house some time soon after six."

"Cool, see you then."

"See you!"

Gilbert put the phone down and relaxed back onto his bed. He couldn't have really said no, could he? She seemed upset, and declining a upset girl's offer just seemed wrong, but the idea of having to be in a room with so many people the next day…wasn't exactly appealing.

He really needed a shower too, and some smart clothes to wear, but right now he was tired, so he simply rolled over and closed his eyes.

He woke up various times throughout the night, but he eventually fell into a deep sleep. When he woke up in what he assumed was the morning, he sat up yawned, and froze. It was five o'clock, in the _afternoon_. Shit.

Gilbert pulled himself out of bad and ran towards the bathroom, he could see Antonio was sitting in his own room and stuck his head in. "Mate, you don't happen to have any smart clothes I could wear, do you?"

Antonio looked surprised, "Ya going out somewhere?"

"Yeah, and I'm supposed to be there in like an hour."

"Ah, well I've just got work suits and stuff, but I'm pretty sure Francis has some nice clothes."

"Is he in?"

Antonio shook his head, "Nah, But I'm sure he wouldn't mind ya borrowing something."

Gilbert was about to run downstairs to Francis's room when Antonio asked, "Where ya going anyway?"

He grinned, "I'm going to some concert with Elisaveta."

Antonio smiled back, "Ah good, at least someone was able to drag you out of bed."

Gilbert stuck his finger up at him, but he was smiling as he sped off to Francis's room. He hardly ever went into his room but whenever he did, it always struck him how much cleaner it always was than his and Antonio's rooms. He walked past the fancy blue décor and opened to wardrobe to a grand display of vibrant colours. Francis really hadn't heard of subtlety, had he?

Gilbert searched through the wardrobe until he found a tasteful black suit and legged it back upstairs into the bathroom. He threw his clothes off and showered as quickly as he could. Once finished, he pulled on Francis's suit; it fit reasonably well, thankfully.

He went back to Antonio, who was typing furiously away on his laptop. "Hey, how'd I look?"

Antonio glanced up and smiled again, "Gimme a twirl."

Gilbert laughed and spun round.

"Charming," Antonio said, "But you look a little tired."

Gilbert grimaced and headed back into his own room to look in a mirror (Antonio didn't have one in his room.) the bags that were ever-present under his eyes seemed darker than usual, and getting something to cover them up had completely slipped his mind. He headed back into Francis's room and searched through his make-up, he seemed to have a lot of it, a lot of which Gilbert wasn't even sure what it was used for.

Eventually, he managed to make himself look vaguely presentable and ran back upstairs again to Antonio, "Do you mind driving me over to Roderich and Elisaveta's?" He couldn't believe he was actually asking to go in a goddamn car again, but he needed to get there fast, and he still couldn't shake the feeling that Ivan would be waiting for him if he went out alone.

Antonio slammed his laptop shut, "Anything to get out of work," He grinned and stood up, but then he paused and frowned, "Wait, don't you know how to drive? It just occurred to me…you were taking driving lessons back when we were in school."

"Yeah, but I never passed my test."

Antonio looked surprised but came outside to his car with Gilbert. Who felt his insides churning as he got into the car. He had been in a car alone with Antonio before, he reminded himself, it wasn't like anything had happened last time. But last time, Antonio had to be somewhere, so he couldn't really do anything, but no one was expecting him anywhere now, he could stop the car and do something…

Without thinking, Gilbert yanked open the car door. Antonio cried out and pressed his foot hard on the breaks. Thank goodness they weren't on a busy road. Antonio turned to him, "What the hell are ya doing?"

Gilbert pulled the door to, "Sorry, I just panicked slightly." He couldn't help noticing there was no one else around, he felt his heart beating fast and he didn't close the door completely just yet.

Antonio hit his head slightly off the steering wheel, but he accidentally hit the horn and jumped back up in surprise, "Gilbert, there's nothing to panic about, except for the fact that you could have just got us killed."

Gilbert swallowed and shakily pulled the door closed and pulled his seatbelt on so he wouldn't be tempted to try and make a runner again. Antonio sighed and hit the lock button. Gilbert was pretty sure his heart had just skipped about a million beats.

Antonio started driving cautiously again. Gilbert could tell he was angry, and he was terrified, but he managed to get to Elisaveta's place unharmed.

He pulled his seatbelt off and stepped out of the car, leaning back in to thank Antonio for the lift.

Antonio smiled back, "Okay, just don't go pulling stunts like that in future, ya scared the life outta me!" His tone was his usual happy one, and Gilbert was surprised at how quickly the Spaniard seemed to get over things as he jogged up the drive, trying - and failing miserably - to flatten his hair slightly.

He knocked on the door and cursed himself for not having a watch; he wasn't actually sure what time it was. After a few seconds, Elisaveta opened the door and smiled at him. Gilbert heard himself suck in a lot of breath. _Damn_, she looked good. She was dressed in a simple, formal black dress with her hair up in a knot that looked like it took hours, with a small pink flower decorating he front of her hair.

"Hey," She said, "I didn't actually expect you to show up on time."

He grinned, "Neither did I."

She stood aside to let him in, "We've probably got time for a quick drink before we leave if you want one."

He hadn't actually eaten or drank anything all day, so that sounded ridiculously good. He nodded enthusiastically, "Some coffee would be seriously awesome."

She headed into the kitchen and Gilbert followed her. As she started boiling the water she turned to him, "That's an awfully nice suit you've got on, I didn't expect you to have anything like that. You continue to surprise me!" She laughed.

Gilbert leant on the side and smiled, "It's actually my friend's. I 'borrowed' it"

She raised her eyebrows at him and pulled two mugs out of the cupboard. It struck Gilbert that he absolutely no idea about the concert they were going to. He rested his arms down on the counter before asking, "So, is there a theme of the concert tonight or anything?"

Elisaveta nodded, pouring water into the mugs with the coffee, "It's to celebrate German composers from the classical and Baroque era I believe. So Bach, Agrell, Pachelbel…That kind of thing."

Gilbert smiled and nodded, at least it was music he was familiar with. "What's Roderich do with this orchestra?"

"Well, because he plays so many instruments, he tends to play different instruments even within the same orchestra, I believe he's playing his piano tonight though."

She handed him a mug and took a sip from her own, "Ah!" She exclaimed, "That's hot!"

Gilbert laughed and waited a little before attempting to drink his.

After a short, comfortable silence, Elisaveta noted, "You know, you _do _keep surprising me tonight, classical music doesn't strike me as something you'd like."

He shrugged, "I'm pretty versatile, I like Rock and stuff, but I learnt the violin when I was younger, so I learnt a lot of classical pieces through that, and through Roderich."

She smiled, "Ah yes, you two used to be friends, right?

He nodded, but didn't expand on it. It hurt a little to hear her say 'used to', he had hoped he and Roderich would manage to become friends again, but over five weeks into his coming home, Roderich still seemed to hate his guts.

He sighed and downed his coffee, not really caring if he burnt his mouth slightly. Elisaveta did the same and stood up straight, "Right, let's get going before we're late."

She walked to the front door and pulled on a pair of black heels to match her dress and a thin coat before walking outside, Gilbert close behind.

He didn't mind being in the car with Elisaveta as much as Antonio, and although he would never admit it to her, it was mostly because she was female; he felt less intimidated by her, and a little more confident that he could overpower her.

The journey to the concert hall took a little longer than expected and by the time they got there, only ten minutes remained before the concert was due to start. They ran in, quickly showed their tickets to a stern-looking man at the front desk and headed inside the hall.

The hall itself was pretty impressive, with a high-domed ceiling. Gilbert probably would have appreciated it more, though, if it had not been packed full of people. He felt his palms starting to sweat and rubbed them on the insides of his trouser pockets. Elisaveta led him to their seats and sat down.

The concert itself was pretty amazing, and Gilbert was grateful that the music was able to keep his mind occupied on things other than how close he was sitting to the person on his left, or how far away the doors were. He couldn't help watching Roderich most of the time; he was hypnotising when he played music. But his attention flicked to the first violins when they played Pachelbel's Canon in D major, and it once again reminded him of his own violin playing, he has always loved this piece. Maybe he would have to try and pick it up again. Not that Roderich would help him this time.

The interval came far too quickly for Gilbert's liking. Now with no music to distract him, he started to panic. He leaned over to Elisaveta, "I'm going outside for some fresh air, I'll be back in a bit."

She nodded and stood up to go somewhere herself. Gilbert got back slightly late for the second half, so that he would miss the rush of people re-entering. He fell down in the seat next to Elisaveta and she whispered, "Just spoke to Roderich, he hasn't noticed you're here, which is probably a good thing."

He smiled back and then pressed his finger to his lips, signalling her to be quiet.

After the concert finished, they headed back to the car in high spirits, Gilbert had asked that they didn't mingle behind for too long, he said he wasn't fond of crowds. Elisaveta had been fine with that, saying she wanted to get home to bed anyway.

"He's damn awesome at playing the piano." Gilbert remarked as he got into the car.

Elisaveta nodded, "I know, I love hearing him play." She laughed softly, "Sometimes when he thinks I'm not around he'll play for hours…I just sit outside the door and listen, but I wish I could join in."

"You don't play any instruments?"

She shook her head, "At my school we were expected to play, so I used to play the flute there, but I never practiced, and I was pretty awful…I can sing pretty well though." She noted.

He leant back in his eat, closing his eyes briefly, but opening them again when he remembered he was stuck in a car alone with someone, and woman or not, he still didn't want to let his guard down too much.

They pulled into the drive of Roderich and Elisaveta's house. Elisaveta yawned loudly before saying, "Do you mind just staying here tonight? I'm too tired to drive all the way to Antonio's and back again."

Gilbert felt his stomach clench and his mouth go dry. Being in a big, intimidating house alone with someone wasn't really top on his list of things to do, but Elisaveta seemed genuinely exhausted, so he doubted she would do anything. He nodded stiffly, "That's fine."

They headed inside, Elisaveta fumbling with the keys slightly before she slid them into the lock and walked inside, "There's spare rooms upstairs." She said, yawning once again.

Gilbert shrugged, "It's cool, I'll just dump myself on the couch."

"Suit yourself." Elisaveta responded before kicking off her shoes and heading upstairs.

Gilbert pulled his jacket and tie of and untucked his shirt before flopping down on the couch and going to sleep.

* * *

><p>Roderich smiled to himself, content. The concert that he had been practicing for months had gone even better than expected. He was standing in the lobby now, accepting praise and thanks for such a wonderful performance.<p>

He wasn't in a huge rush to get home, and he had just noticed some nice-looking cake being sold. He felt he deserved it and walked over to buy some.

After he finished his cake and numerous other people came over to tell him what a wonderful performance it had been, he walked outside to his car and finally headed off home. It had been a long day, with non-stop rehearsals from ten o'clock in the morning and then an almost four-hour long concert. He would be happy to get home and sleep for a very long time.

He pulled up next to his fiancée's car in the driveway and walked inside. He pulled off his coat and was about to hang it up when he saw a coat he didn't recognise already on the hook. He frowned as he put his coat over it, who the hell else was here?

Suddenly, he heard a loud noise from the living room, "Nein! Nein!" He ran into the room and paused when he saw Gilbert thrashing about on the couch. Gilbert carried on screaming, but this time it didn't sound German, "Ya izvinyayus' ! Pozhaluista, nyet! Nyet!"

He walked over and stared down at Gilbert in horror, what the hell was he dreaming about? He heard footsteps thundering down the stairs behind him. Gilbert, who was covered in sweat and looked like he was crying, whimpered and pleaded, "Pozhaluista, prekratite"

Roderich turned around, to where Elisaveta was standing at the door. He gave her a slightly lost look, "What's he saying?"

She shook her head, "I don't know…but it sounds Russian."

"How do you know that?"

She waved her hand vaguely in the air, "I've been to Eastern Europe a lot, I've heard it before."

He nodded and turned back to Gilbert. Who was still thrashing about and had started screaming. He leaned over him and shook him slightly, "Gilbert," He whispered, "Wake up."

Gilbert didn't wake at first but after another sharp shake from Roderich he gasped and his eyes flew open. They met Roderich's purple ones and for a brief second it looked like he was going to calm down, but then his eyes widened and he cried out, "Otoidite ot menya! Pozhaluista!" He scrambled back wards until he fell onto the floor and started sobbing, "Please…" He finally begged in English.

Roderich fell down on the floor next to him and Elisaveta ran over too. "Gilbert?" She asked cautiously, "What was that about?"

Gilbert's head snapped up and he looked at her, terrified, before turning to Roderich. His face relaxed almost immediately, "Oh." He said, sounding considerably more sane than he had done a second ago, "It's you." He stated simply.

Roderich was slightly irritated now, "What do you mean, 'It's you'?"

"Nothing." Gilbert replied shakily before pulling himself back onto the couch. Elisaveta perched herself on the arm of the settee, "Gilbert, what were you dreaming about?" she asked.

He shook his head, "Nothing." He repeated.

Elisaveta sighed, "Okay, well get back to sleep then." She stood up to leave and Roderich followed her, but then Gilbert cried out, "Wait! Don't go!"

Roderich turned back around; Gilbert looked terrified, he was clutching himself as he sat on the sofa, his eyes wide and constantly darting to the window, and a pleading look on his face. He looked like a child who was afraid of the dark, and Roderich couldn't help feeling like he should help.

"What's wrong?" He tried to sound irritated, but he honestly wanted to know.

Gilbert bit his lip, "I, er, I can't…can you just stay here until I fall back to sleep?"

Elisaveta walked over and sat next to him, "Does anything help you get to sleep?" she asked.

Gilbert flushed red, "Er, sometimes I sing to myself." He admitted, clearly quite embarrassed, "Russian lullabies mostly."

Elisaveta's eyebrows raised ever so slightly, before she smiled, "I don't know any Russian lullabies I'm afraid…" She went silent for a little while before softly singing, "_Guten abend, gute nacht."_

Gilbert smiled slightly before lying down and closing his eyes. Elisaveta carried on, "_Mit Rosen Bedacht,_" Roderich walked over to his piano and start playing the melody for her. "_Mit Naglein besteckt…" _

She carried on singing until Gilbert was snoring slightly. Then she sighed and stood up. Roderich looked at her, "Why is he here?"

She froze, and then slowly turned to him, "I was too tired to drive him home."

He raised his eyebrows, "But why was he with you in the first place?"

She bit her lip, "Lily couldn't come to the concert with me, so I went with Gilbert instead…he said you played very well."

Roderich felt a little spark of pride at that but was still a little annoyed, "Right…Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought you'd rip his head off maybe?"

He sighed, "I wouldn't rip his head off Elisaveta, I'm a gentleman." He glanced at Gilbert, who was now sleeping far more peacefully on the sofa, "Maybe just stab him in the eye with my violin bow…I'm joking, Lizzy, no need to look so alarmed."

Elisaveta yawned, "Well, I'm heading back up to bed, I'm exhausted."

Roderich nodded, " I'll join you then."

As they headed upstairs, Roderich frowned slightly, "Do you know what all that screaming was about? You seem to know him better than me." He added bitterly.

She shook her head, "He's pretty vague about his life to be honest, he's told me a lot of things from his days at school, but when I've asked about the past couple of years, he's always said 'another time'."

Roderich's frown deepened, "Maybe I'll ask him about it in the morning."

He got changed and lay down, feeling Elisaveta wrap her arms around him, "Night," she whispered.

"Goodnight." He whispered back.

**I included Pachelbel's Canon in D major again, can you tell that I love that piece? XD**

**My author's notes are shorter than usual... *looks at time* Oh, it's 1:45 in the morning, that could explain it :'D**

**Please review! even if you haven't reviewed before, or if you have! I just love getting reviews so much :3**

**The next chapter might take a little while to upload, I've got to revise for a maths exam and I have a feeling it's going to be really hard to write, but I'll be as quick as is humanly possible!**

**EDIT: 'Guten abend, gute nacht' is a popular German lullaby.**

**Translations:  
><strong>

**Ya izvinyayus' ! Pozhaluista, nyet! Nyet! - I'm sorry! Please, no! No!**

**Pozhaluista, prekratite - Please, stop.**

**Otoidite ot menya! Pozhaluista! - Get away from me! Please!**

**Nein - No (German, not Russian~)  
><strong>


	14. Chapter 14: Confession

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading this, and a million and one thanks to those who have reviewed!**

**This chapter's a little dark, sorry about that :/  
><strong>

Roderich dragged himself downstairs at ten o'clock in the morning. He still felt pretty exhausted from his concert the night before, but he knew staying in bed all day would do him no good. And besides, he needed caffeine.

He walked into the kitchen and turned the kettle on to make himself some coffee. He was wondering what to do with his day – bake a cake, perhaps? – when he heard loud yawning behind him. Elisaveta would have already left for work, so it wouldn't be her, so who on Earth was it?

He spun around. Oh. "Gilbert, what are you still doing here?"

Gilbert yawned again and stretched, "Mornin' to you too," he said before pulling himself up so that he was sitting on the kitchen counter.

Roderich gasped, "Get down from there, you fool!"

Gilbert ignored him and leaned over to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. Roderich glared at him, noticing for the first time how dreadful he looked. His skin was sallow, the clothes he wore seemed to hang off him and the mischievous gleam in his eyes from his childhood had long since faded. Roderich frowned, "Last night," he started, "You were screaming…what was that about?"

Gilbert shrugged and put his glass down, "Probably just a nightmare."

Roderich rolled his eyes, "I got that, what about?"

"Nothing."

Roderich scowled, "Why do you keep saying that? Is everything just 'nothing' to you? Because by the looks of things, _I_ certainly was; you just abandoned me as soon as a more attractive guy came along, I bet it was that guy from the café, wasn't it? Or was he 'nothing' to you too? I bet you abandoned him as soon as - Ah!"

His cheek felt sore where Gilbert had just hit him. Gilbert, who was now fuming, "Shut up!" He yelled, "Just shut up! You have no idea what you're talking about!"

They stood staring at each other for a second, then Roderich slowly lifted his hand to his face, "You hit me." He stated bluntly, slightly shocked. Gilbert's face suddenly paled and his eyes went wide. He stumbled backwards, "Oh God, I'm sorry," he banged into the corner of the kitchen, "I'm sorry," he repeated, falling down onto the floor and clutching his head with both hands, "I'm turning into him," he whimpered, "I'm turning into a _monster_."

Roderich was still in shock, and his hand hadn't moved from the side of his face. Gilbert looked up at him and started trying to scramble off the floor, "I should leave," he muttered as he headed towards the door.

Roderich, who had finally gotten over his slight shock, reached out and grabbed Gilbert's arm, "Wait!"

Gilbert screamed and pulled his arm away; he stared at Roderich, terrified.

Roderich felt a small pain tugging at his chest as looked at Gilbert, who was so scared, so vulnerable. He sighed and asked quietly, "Who are you turning into, Gilbert?"

"Ivan," he muttered, and immediately looked like he wished he hadn't.

Roderich thought for a second, he was sure he recognised the name from somewhere…then it hit him. "The man from the café?" He asked.

Gilbert looked, if possible, even more terrified, but he said nothing. In all honesty, though, his silence was as good as a confession.

Roderich sighed and walked back over to the kettle; he still hadn't had his morning coffee. "Who is he?" He asked Gilbert, who was glancing at the door as if he was wondering whether to leave or not.

After a couple of seconds, he seemed to regain his composure slightly and snarled, "Why the hell should I tell you?"

Roderich sighed again, becoming rather frustrated, "Because, Gilbert, you left me – and by the looks of things a lot of other people – for eight years without an explanation, I think I deserve to know who you left me for at least."

A look of anger crossed Gilbert's face, "Fine, you want to know why I left? You really want to fucking know?"

Roderich was a little wary that Gilbert was becoming angry; he didn't exactly want to be hit again. He simply nodded.

Gilbert closed his eyes and muttered something; Roderich thought he might be counting, trying to calm himself down. He pulled himself back onto the counter, but less cockily this time and Roderich didn't have the heart to shout at him again.

There was silence. Then, "Do you remember when we were fourteen, and I only got a pass on my violin exam, and you got all miffed because you expected me to get a distinction?"

Roderich gave him an incredulous look, "Is this relevant?"

Gilbert swallowed and nodded, "Just bear with me."

"Fine, yes I remember. You told me you were just having a bad day."

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, well that was partly true." He looked down at his lap and picked at an imaginary piece of dirt on his trousers, "The day before the exam, something happened," his face twisted slightly, "Francis and Antonio wanted to go down the park to play football after school, and I was planning to join them, but I'd left my kit in the changing rooms. I went back into the school to get it, I picked it up, about to leave, when I heard the changing room door open," his lip trembled slightly, "I didn't really think anything of it, I thought maybe it was just another student who had forgotten their kit or something, but I turned around and _he_ was there. Ivan."

Roderich was slightly confused, "Why was he at your school?"

Gilbert looked up, a small look of surprise on his face; it looked like he had almost forgotten Roderich was there. "He…he'd been _following_ me for a while," he grimaced, "It was my own damn fault I guess, ever since a football match earlier in the year."

Roderich was starting to feel uncomfortable; this wasn't quite what he had been expecting, but he didn't say anything, he needed to know what else Gilbert had to say, whether he liked it or not.

Gilbert looked out the window and his voice dropped in volume considerably, "I didn't know what to do," he said shakily, "I know I should have run, but he has this _control_ over me, I can't explain it, but I just," his voice shook more, "I couldn't move. He was talking to me, I can't remember what he said now, I try to block it out, but then he came closer and I…I didn't…I couldn't…" He was stumbling over his words, seemingly unsure of exactly what to say, Roderich was staring, transfixed, clutching the mug of coffee in his hands.

Gilbert breathed deeply, and finally looked straight at Roderich, "He raped me," he managed to choke out.

Roderich heard his coffee mug smash on the floor, and saw Gilbert wince slightly. He felt a feeling of guilt grow inside of him, had he seriously accused Gilbert of abandoning him for this man? He stared in horror at Gilbert, "Why didn't you say anything at the time?"

Gilbert shook his head, "I was too scared, I thought he might hear me… I thought he might do it again," he shuddered and drew his arms across his chest, hugging himself.

There was a long silence, broken only by Gilbert's occasional sobs, which he seemed to be trying to hold back. Roderich walked cautiously closer to him, "Gilbert," he said slowly, feeling his own voice shaking slightly, "Is Ivan," he spat his name in disgust, "The reason you've been gone for eight years?"

Gilbert looked terrified, and Roderich didn't think he was going to say anything. He sighed and leaned down to floor to start picking up the remnants of his mug when he heard a very faint, "Yes."

He stood up straight and looked at Gilbert, who had started talking again, "I've been living with him, I never left his fucking house, not once, I was just trapped there," his speech was speeding up and he looked slightly hysterical, he wasn't holding back his sobs anymore either, "You couldn't understand what it was like, you and your perfect fucking little life," Roderich felt a small stab in his chest, "I spent every fucking day living , in fact screw that, _existing_ as Ivan's toy," his face twisted again, "As his plaything. When he was angry, he would hit me, when he had had a bad day, he would hit me, when he was sad, he would hit me," Gilbert was breathing very heavily by this point, "And when he was in any other mood, he would _touch_ me."

Roderich felt sick, he didn't want to hear anymore, but Gilbert carried on talking, "Do you know what that's like?" He asked desperately, but he didn't wait for an answer, "I can't get rid of him," he sobbed, "Everywhere on my body, I can feel where he touched me; I can feel him _inside_ of me. And I hate it, I want to get rid of it, but no matter how hard I fucking try, I still feel him, I still feel unclean."

Roderich was pretty sure he was about to throw up, he really wanted Gilbert to stop, but at the same time, it looked like Gilbert had been bottling all of this up, he needed to get it out, so he simply asked, "Why didn't you run away sooner?" He was surprised at how choked his voice sounded, "Why did you wait eight years to get away?"

Gilbert glanced out the window again, "I couldn't. Ivan wouldn't let me leave, he said if I left, or if I tried to kill myself…he said he would hurt Ludwig," he went silent for a moment, "Or he would hurt you."

Roderich was pretty sure his stomach had just sunk about a mile. One thought plagued his mind, "This is my fault." He said.

Gilbert's head snapped back to him, "Don't say shit like that, it wasn't your fault, nor was it Ludwig's, it was mine own _stupid_ fault." He sounded slightly angry now, but tears were still falling down his face.

Roderich frowned, "You're right, it's not my fault, but it's not yours either, it's Ivan's, it's that sick man's fault you're like this." He knew he sounded bitter, angry, but he didn't care. If Ivan was there right now, he was pretty sure he would smash his head into his piano.

He walked tentatively closer to Gilbert until he was right in front of him, slowly lifting his arm, "Do you mind if I touch you?"

Gilbert's face paled slightly, but he shook his head sharply. Roderich reached his hand forward and wiped the tears from Gilberts face before resting his hand on his cheek. Gilbert sat rigidly for a second, but then leant into his touch.

Roderich smiled slightly at him, "I won't hurt you, I promise."

Gilbert nodded, but he didn't really look like he believed him. How could he, after years of being treated like he wasn't even human?

Roderich sighed softly and tugged slightly on Gilbert's hand, signalling for him to get down of the kitchen counter. He slid down so that was standing and Roderich couldn't help noticing that without his attitude, he didn't seem quite as tall. Gilbert had always been the older one; the one Roderich looked up to when they were younger, despite there being an age difference of just a few months. But now, it seemed the tables had turned, Gilbert didn't really seem any older than when Roderich had last seen him as an eighteen year old boy, so young and vulnerable. But at the same time, he seemed to have aged a hundred years, no longer innocent and mischievous as he had once been.

He wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a hug, Gilbert started to freak out but Roderich whispered "I promised I wouldn't hurt you, remember?"

Gilbert didn't pull away, but he was extremely tense, so Roderich let go of him and looked at the floor, "I should clean that up," he sighed, "Go sit in the lounge…I'll make you a drink, and you can tell me more if you need to…but if you don't want to that's fine too." He was trying to sound calm, composed, he had to keep his head on so that he could be the shoulder that Gilbert so obviously needed, but as soon as Gilbert had walked out the room, he leant down to pick up the pieces of the shattered mug again, and burst into tears.

* * *

><p>Gilbert fell down on the sofa and pulled his knees to his chest, staring blankly forward in shock. He had seriously just told someone about Ivan, and although it made him sick to his stomach to even think about him, getting all of that off his chest, letting someone else carry that burden with him. That felt <em>good<em>.

Now that he had started telling him about it, he wanted to tell him everything, every little detail about his time at Ivan's, but Roderich had looked stricken at what he had heard, he doubted he could deal with much more.

After a short wait, Roderich walked in with two steaming mugs. He handed one to Gilbert and silently sat down next to him. Gilbert sipped the drink; _damn _he loved coffee. He felt Roderich looking at him and squirmed slightly, "What?"

Roderich shook his head, closed his eyes momentarily, then said, "Sorry."

"I said it's not your fault, you don't need to be sorry."

He shook his head again, "No, I'm sorry for assuming you left me for him of your own volition, for getting mad at you."

Gilbert nodded and carried on drinking.

Roderich ran his finger around the rim of his mug before asking, "So, that screaming last night…that was about him?"

Gilbert simply nodded again; he didn't really know what else to say about it.

Roderich frowned, "When you woke up…you were alright for a second, but then you freaked out again."

Gilbert sighed; he had hoped Roderich hadn't noticed that, "It's your eyes," he admitted, "They're the same colour as Ivan's."

Roderich winced. There was silence again for a small while, before Roderich said, sounding slightly hurt, "You don't like to talk about this do you?"

Gilbert felt a little lost, "I don't know," he admitted, "It's good to finally tell someone I guess, it means I have someone to talk to… but it makes it more real too," he closed his eyes, "Too real."

Roderich nodded, "But you can't just keep it from people forever."

"Says who?" Gilbert retorted, but he didn't sound particularly angry.

Roderich sighed, "Your friends don't want to hurt you, you fool, they just want to help."

"I don't need their help." Gilbert said, but he knew he was lying; he wanted them to understand, he wanted help, but he was scared that they would think he was weak, and he was terrified that they would take advantage of that.

Roderich sighed again, "Do your family even know?"

Gilbert looked down at his coffee and shook his head, "I couldn't tell my dad," he choked, "I'd upset him too much, for once in my life, I wanna _not_ disappoint him."

"What about your brother?"

Gilbert shook his head, "He doesn't need to know." In all honesty, he didn't want to tell his little brother because he was afraid that Ludwig would see him as weak too, he was pretty confident he wouldn't try to hurt him, but he sort of wanted Ludwig to look up to him. After the episode in his house a little while ago though, he doubted that was the case. Besides, he was still so used to Ludwig being his kid brother, telling him that he was raped seemed a seriously inappropriate thing to tell a child.

He sipped his coffee again, but now he just felt sick. He put it down and looked at Roderich, "Please don't tell anyone what I've told you…shit, I shouldn't even have told you." He ran his hands through his hair, trying to block all thoughts of Ivan from his mind, but it was failing miserably. "I don't know what to do," he admitted.

Roderich looked cluelessly at him, "About what?"

Gilbert sobbed slightly, "Everything. I don't know how to forget what happened, I don't know how to trust people anymore, I don't even know how to fucking sleep without thinking about Ivan."

Roderich smiled sadly at him, "Sorry, Gilbert," he said, "I don't really know what you can do either."

Gilbert pulled his legs closer to him and squirmed slightly. Sitting next to Roderich seemed weird now, now that he knew everything, he felt to open, but then he remembered something, "There is one other person who knows." He said.

Roderich looked at him curiously, "Who?"

"Elisaveta's friend, Toris."

Roderich looked surprised and slightly offended, "Why on Earth does he know?"

Gilbert smiled bitterly, "Because he was my doctor whilst I was at Ivan's…but come to think of it, I haven't actually seen him recently…"

They sat in silence again for a short while before Gilbert couldn't bear it anymore, "I let him do it," he said quietly.

Roderich looked at him quizzically, "Pardon?"

"Every time he hurt me, I just let him do it; I never fought back…why did I never fucking fight back?"

Roderich's face fell slightly and Gilbert immediately felt guilty for saying that. He knew why he never fought back; it was so that Ludwig and Roderich would be safe, and Roderich must have guessed that. "Sorry," Gilbert quickly muttered, "I didn't mean that."

They fell into silence again, and Gilbert wished he could say something, but all he honestly wanted to do was cry, and hope all the pain would go away, but he had made himself look pitiful enough in front of Roderich. He stood up.

Roderich looked up, surprised, "Where are you going?" He asked.

"Bathroom," Gilbert said quickly as he hurried out of the room.

* * *

><p>Roderich looked at the place where Gilbert had just been sitting, then at the half-empty coffee mug sitting next to the sofa. He picked it up, his hand shaking slightly and put it into the kitchen. He waited a few minutes for Gilbert to come back downstairs, but when he didn't, he cautiously ascended the stairs.<p>

He walked over to the bathroom and cautiously knocked, "Gilbert, are you okay?" He knew it was a bit of a stupid question considering the circumstances, so he wasn't surprised when there was no answer.

He could hear running water and when he nudged the door slightly, he was surprised to find it open. He stepped inside and saw Gilbert immediately, curled up, naked under the shower, he looked like he was crying.

Roderich walked warily over to him and sunk down on the floor next to him, not caring if he got soaked. Gilbert looked up, a mortified look on his face. "I won't hurt you," Roderich repeated, hoping Gilbert would believe him.

Gilbert simply stared at him for a few seconds, then buried his face into his shoulder and continued crying.

Roderich was pretty sure at that moment that there was nothing he wouldn't do to get Gilbert back to how he was before Ivan came into his life.

* * *

><p>Elisaveta frowned as she walked up the driveway of the school she taught at, she wasn't supposed to be on bus duty today, but the geography teacher was off ill and she had been asked to cover.<p>

She stood just outside the gates and surveyed the students getting onto their buses or into their parent's or older sibling's cars. Occasionally, she would have to tell a student off for harassing the younger students or throwing stuff around, but mostly it was rather uneventful.

Once all the school buses had left, only a couple of students remained behind and her eye was caught by one in particular. He was a quiet young boy, she couldn't even remember what his name was, but he always wore a fez to school and didn't interact much with the other students. He looked a little worried, and she was about to go up to him and ask him if he was alright when his face lit up and he called, "Sadiq!"

Elisaveta felt her mouth run dry and her head snapped to the car that had just pulled up. Sadiq was sitting at the wheel, smiling at his little brother as he ran over to the car. Next to him was someone she recognised, but couldn't quite place a name to…it began with G or something.

Without really knowing what she was doing, she walked over to the car. Sadiq saw her out of the corner of his eye and looked over, his expression froze as he realised who it was.

She smiled slightly at him, getting ready to leg it if she needed to. Sadiq gave her a blank stare back and finally said, "Hungary, dude…girl, even, didn't expect to see you here."

She was surprised he hadn't tried to attack her or anything; she supposed it was a good start though, "Likewise," she said, "How's life?"

He shrugged, "Pretty good I suppose, I cut off all ties to the gang a couple of years ago, to look after my little brother." He indicated to the boy who was now talking to the man in the passenger seat. The man occasionally smiled and nodded at the things he said, but he didn't really say anything.

She grinned, "He's cute, and he's a good student." She glanced again at the man in the passenger seat, "You haven't cut off all ties to the gang by the looks of things."

Sadiq blushed slightly and the man looked at her, "The Ottomans is completely dead," he said, "I just live with Sadiq."

"Gupta," the boy in the back of the car moaned, "Were you listening to a thing I said?"

Gupta! That was his name. She smiled slyly, and looked at Sadiq, "You're gay?"

He frowned, "What of it?"

Her smile widened, "Nothing, but you and Gupta make a sweet couple."

Sadiq raised his eyebrows at her, or she thought he did, the mask made it hard to tell. "I thought you'd hate me," he admitted.

She shrugged, "I did, but there's no point holding a grudge forever," she glanced at her watch, "I'd better be getting home anyway," she smiled, waggling her left hand at him, "I'm engaged now, and I think my fiancé'll be wondering where I am. But see you around, yeah?"

He nodded, "Sure, and keep an eye out for Mo at school."

She nodded too, "See you!" She stepped away from the car and waved at her old friend as he drove away.

She got into her car in high spirits; that was two old friends she had bumped into within the last month or so, she certainly hadn't been expecting that.

She drove home and wasn't surprised to see Roderich's car still parked outside the drive. He always said he had loads to do when he had free days, but ended up just making cakes and playing music all day long. She giggled slightly as she imagined his face, insisting that he had done lots of important work.

When she opened the front door, Elisaveta was surprised at how quiet it was, but when she listened a little more closely, she thought she heard running water. She headed upstairs, "Roderich!" She called, "Are you in the shower?"

There was no reply. By the time she got upstairs, she could hear the water clearly, but the door was wide open. Frowning, she walked towards it and headed inside.

Gilbert was still here, she hadn't expected that. Nor had she expected him to be crying into Roderich's shoulder. She walked over. "You idiots," she said softly, turning off the water, which for some reason was freezing cold, "You'll catch a cold if you sit here for too long."

Roderich looked up at her, he hadn't even taken his glasses off and he looked rather lost. She knelt down next to him and kissed him softly on the forehead, "What's wrong?" She asked quietly.

Roderich's eyes flickered to Gilbert. She looked at him and felt her blood run cold. He was covered in scars and bruises on his legs and torso, they looked old, so she was confident nothing had happened whilst she had been out. She looked at Roderich and mouthed 'What happened?'

Roderich shook his head, seemingly unable to speak. The only sound in the room was Gilbert sobbing against Roderich's shoulder. Elisaveta sighed and stood up, "Come on, I'll make us some food," she said before running from the room, not daring to let her mind think about how Gilbert had acquired those wounds.

**'Mo' is TRNC by the way~ I love TRNC X3**

**Anyway, sorry if that was kind of awful, but I found it really hard to write. Please do review though! Reviews motivate me to write more~**


	15. Chapter 15: Scars

**A/N: I'm sorry this is so late! I was going to update sooner, but I got really bad writer's block at the start of the week, and then my friend distracted me with HetaOni xD**

** This chapter is the shortest one so far too :/ I'm really sorry about that, it's also more flashback/reminiscing etc. rather than plot. I'll try and give you a proper chapter soon :) consider this a bonus or something :'D**

Gilbert felt absolutely freezing as he dried his short hair with a towel. He thought he was alone in the room, so he was surprised when he heard Roderich's voice behind him, "Did he do all of that to you?"

Gilbert spun around, "Hmm?"

"Ivan, did he do all of that to you?" Roderich still looked pretty sick, and Gilbert realised that he had yet to put a top on, so Roderich must have seen his back. He frowned, and shook his head.

"Most of it," he admitted, "But not all of it." He twisted slightly so that Roderich could see his back again, "He forced someone else to do that," he indicated to the burn that spread across his lower back, then moved his hands higher so that he was pointing to the back of his shoulder, where there were various scratch marks "I think I did that to myself in my sleep," he spun back around and finally drew his finger across his chest, where a wide scar was still visible, "And that was his sister, Natalia."

_He had only been there for a couple of weeks, and he was already desperate to return home, living with Ivan had been even worse than he expected. He shuddered and lay down on his bed. Thankfully, the bastard was gone for a couple of days, and he had left his half-sister to watch over the house…and to watch over Gilbert._

_ He had met her before, briefly when she was round at Ivan's house the week before, she was stunningly pretty and seemed fond of her brother, not letting go of him once when she was here. Now, of course, Ivan wasn't here, so Gilbert might actually get a chance to talk to her without having to face Ivan._

_ He got up off his bed and headed downstairs, he already felt more comfortable than usual, there was no Ivan, and his cute little sister wasn't exactly going to be a threat, was she? _

_ He stood inside the doorway of the lounge and saw Natalia seemingly fixing the books on one of the huge bookshelves that occupied the room._

_ "Hey," he said, to catch her attention._

_ At first it seemed like she hadn't heard him, but then she turned around, a furious look on her face. "You!" She spat and stormed over to him._

_ He took a step back startled, "Woah, woah, what did I do?"_

_ She glared at him, "What did you do? Only stole my dear Vanya away from me!"_

_ Gilbert stared cluelessly back. Okay, so who the hell was this 'Vanya'? "Err, what?"_

_ She glared even more, "Don't pretend like you don't know, you stupid boy, ever since he found you my brother's been all 'Gilbert this' and 'Gilbert that'; it makes me sick! He's supposed to love me!"_

_ Gilbert's confused expression changed to horror, "You're talking about Ivan?"_

_ She rolled her eyes mockingly, "Who else would I be talking about?"_

_ "I don't know…but it's not like I _asked_ to be his favourite."_

_ "You think I care? Just get him away from you; otherwise he'll never marry me!"_

_ Gilbert muttered something under his breath. Natalia narrowed here eyes, "What did you say?" She demanded._

_ "I said, 'You're a twisted bitch'" _

_ "You dare-"_

_ He snarled at her, "Oh yeah? I do dare, 'cause what you gonna do about it?" with her small frame and fragile-looking limbs, Gilbert really couldn't see Natalia being able to cause him harm, and being able to be the one in control of a situation for once felt awesome._

_ But that feeling quickly faded when she reached into the waistband of her dress, and pulled out a knife._

_ His eyes widened in horror and he stood backwards, but Natalia was gaining on him fast. Without thinking, he slammed her arm out the way and punched her in the face. Usually, he would never dream of hitting a girl, but he was pretty sure when they were brandishing a knife at you that it was okay._

_ She screamed and pulled her free hand to her face. As she pulled it away, Gilbert could see a bruise starting to form round her eye. Fuck, Ivan was going to _kill_ him._

_ Still startled that he had managed to whack her so hard in the face, he failed to react in time when she lashed out with her knife. He was only able to move away at the last second, probably saving his life, but the knife still managed to break through his skin and slice open his chest._

_ Gilbert yelled out and fell to the floor. Natalia stood over him, exerting the kind of power that her brother had. She smiled, but it wasn't a sweet smile one may expect from a girl like her, but a twisted, almost angry smile. "The only reason I'm not killing you," she breathed dangerously, "Is because Vanya would hate me for it."_

_ She brought the knife to her mouth and licked the blood off it. It made Gilbert want to throw up, but if he looked weak, he was sure she would only taunt him more, so he just scowled up at her._

_ She stood staring down at him for a good minute before she twirled and stalked back into the living room to carry on rearranging the books as if nothing had happened. _

_ Gilbert dragged himself into the kitchen, clutching his chest. He glanced around, it made him feel dizzy, but he had to find the phone. Eventually, he saw it at the other end of the kitchen. He swore quietly to himself and crawled over there, reaching up to grab the receiver and the phone book. He dropped them both on the floor in front of him, trying not to drip blood on them as he flicked to the page marked 'L'._

_ He quickly jammed the number into the phone, and only had to wait one ring for the phone to be picked up. But then again, this was Ivan's phone, and Gilbert imagined leaving Ivan waiting for you to pick up wasn't a good idea._

_ "Hello?" A slightly nervous voice said from the other line._

_ "Toris," Gilbert gasped, "It's Gilbert, we met last week, remember?"_

_ He heard a small sigh from Toris, "Yes, I know who you are…what's wrong?"_

_ Gilbert was struggling to stay conscious, but he needed to get a doctor here fast. "Ivan's not here," he spluttered out, "But his sister just went all crazy on me," he glanced down at his hand on his chest; it was covered in blood. He felt his heart beat quicken slightly, "I'm bleeding," he managed to gasp, "A lot…can you get over here?"_

_ "Ah, you've encountered Natalia?" He heard a slightly bitter laugh, "I'd tell you not to get on her bad side…but it seems I'm a little late, I'll be there shortly."_

_ Gilbert muttered his thanks before dropping the receiver and convulsing in pain on the floor. He sincerely hoped Toris would get there soon, because he certain he was going to die from blood loss otherwise. He pulled his hands away and glanced at the sticky red liquid that now coated his palms._

_ He felt like crying; he thought that with Ivan gone for a short while, his time here might be more bearable; he thought his sister would be easy to get along with, but he supposed the phrase 'the only way is up' didn't apply when you were stuck round a bunch of crazy Russian psychopaths._

_ He continued to squirm on the floor, hoping with all his might that Toris would arrive soon. When he eventually heard the click of the lock (Toris had a key to Ivan's house, Gilbert supposed he had to come a lot, but he was surprised that Ivan trusted him so much), he felt himself breath a sigh of relief._

_ Toris ran into the house, he needn't go very far though, because the doorway of the lounge was visible from the entrance, and Gilbert was pretty sure he had left a trail of blood from there to where he was lying now on the kitchen floor._

_ As expected, it didn't take long for Toris to appear at the kitchen doorway, a horrified expression on his face. He ran over to Gilbert, his arm full of bandages. "Let's hope Natalia doesn't notice I'm here," he whispered, "Or she may break my fingers again."_

_ "Don't worry," Gilbert whispered back, feeling his strength depleting, "She seems to be busy, fixing the shelves or something."_

_ "I doubt that," He smiled slightly, "She's probably leaving little love notes in all of his books, so he's bombarded with them whenever he tries to read."_

_ Gilbert raised his eyebrows as Toris started cleaning his wound, "What's with that exactly? Isn't she, er, his sister or something?"_

_ "Well, his half-sister actually, she has a different father…but I get you're point, it's a little creepy."_

_Gilbert was about to nod in agreement, but as he tried to move his head, it simply lolled forward as he fainted onto Toris._

Roderich smiled at him slightly sadly, "You say it so matter-of-fact," he remarked.

Gilbert cocked his head to the side and pulled on a top, "How'd you mean?"

"When you talk about your wounds, you sound so…" he waved his hand in the air, as if he were trying to catch the word he was looking for, "clinical," he eventually settled on, "As if it never happened to you."

Gilbert's face fell, "You don't believe me?"

Roderich shook his head, "That's not how I mean. People say it's hard to believe the holocaust happened, simply because it was so dreadful…but there are only a few idiots who _actually_ believe it didn't happen. That's what I'm trying to say, it's hard to believe it happened, but I _do_…does that make sense?"

Gilbert pulled a face, "Kinda."

Roderich sighed, "Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me," he headed out the room and Gilbert heard his light footsteps descending the stairs. He would probably go down himself soon enough, but right now, he wanted a couple of minutes alone.

He glanced out the window of Roderich and Elisaveta's room, where he had been getting dressed. It struck him how little he had actually been outside since coming home. Sure, he had been into town a few times with Elisaveta and he had walked between houses or to work occasionally, but he hadn't really spent a day completely outside, which he thought he would have craved after so long stuck inside.

But every time he went outside, he was sure that Ivan was following him, and as a teenager, that had almost always been the case. The fact that Ivan had found him in Tino's café…had that been coincidence? Or was he still following Gilbert? Gilbert stepped away from the window and felt a shiver run down his spine. Maybe Ivan was even watching him right now?

_No_, he told himself firmly; he was certain Ivan didn't know where Roderich lived now, and he had never walked here, so even if Ivan was still following him, he couldn't find him here.

Nevertheless, he walked even further away from the window and then ran downstairs to join Roderich and Elisaveta.

* * *

><p>Gilbert sat in an awkward silence as he ate, and Roderich did likewise. Occasionally, Elisaveta would try to start conversation but it would dwindle quickly.<p>

Eventually, she threw her fork down in frustration, "What the hell is up with you guys? I'm gone for a few hours and suddenly you two seem upset, but you won't tell me a fucking thing!"

Gilbert glanced up at her, surprised. Roderich was looking at him, silently begging with his eyes for Gilbert to say something.

Gilbert cleared his throat and opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't seem to get anything out. He looked at Roderich, "You tell her," he muttered uncomfortably.

Roderich looked at him unbelievably, "You told me not to tell anyone…"

Gilbert closed his eyes momentarily, "Just tell her!"

Roderich looked a little lost, but then turned to Elisaveta. He was about to talk, when Gilbert realised how much he didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to hear it. He stood up, "I'm going upstairs," he announced, "Thanks for the food," he added to Elisaveta before he headed out the room.

* * *

><p>Roderich watched Gilbert leave the room before he turned back to his fiancée, but his mouth seemed to have dried up somewhat. He indicated to the dirty crockery on the table, "We should clean this up," he seemed to mumble to no one in particular.<p>

Elisaveta sighed and helped him carry the plates, cutlery and glasses through to the kitchen. They placed them down next to the sink and started running the water before Roderich started talking, "Do you remember that man who came up to us in the café?"

Elisaveta thought for a second, then nodded, "Yeah, he's Gilbert's ex or something, right?"

Roderich's face twisted slightly, "Not exactly. He's called Ivan Braginski," Elisaveta dropped the plate she was holding, and a funny look passed across her face, but she didn't say anything, "He's been…" Roderich paused, not quite sure how to phrase it, "Gilbert was living with him."

Elisaveta carried on washing the crockery. They could afford a dishwasher, sure, but Elisaveta found washing up relaxing, apparently, Roderich just thought it was extra work. She looked up absently, "Yeah?"

Roderich frowned, "He didn't want to."

She paused and said quietly, "What do you mean?"

"I mean Ivan _made_ Gilbert live with him, forced him too."

Elisaveta had completely forgotten the washing up now, she was staring at Roderich with a horrified expression on her face, "Those bruises," she mumbled, her lip trembling slightly, "And the scars…were they Ivan?"

Roderich nodded; Gilbert had mentioned a few were from other people, but they were all instigated by Ivan, so he wasn't really lying.

Elisaveta's eyes were becoming moist and her lip trembled more as she whispered, "We left him with that guy in the café…what if something had happened?"

Roderich sighed softly and pulled Elisaveta towards him, burying his face in her hair, "But nothing did," he assured her, "That weird Chinese guy barged in…"

Elisaveta laughed slightly, but he could tell she was crying too, "Why him?" she mumbled into his chest.

Roderich ran his fingers through her hair, "I don't know…" he sighed. There was silence for a few seconds, before Roderich spoke again, "I'm sorry," he said.

Elisaveta pulled back slightly, a confused expression apparent on her tear-stained face, "For what?" Her face fell, "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you?"

"No! Oh God no, I was just apologising for thinking you were cheating on me…I can see that's not the case now, Gilbert doesn't even let people touch him."

Elisaveta nodded, "I'd noticed, but I wasn't really sure what to think of it," she wiped the tears from her face and smiled weakly up at Roderich. "I might go and try to talk to him," she said.

"Okay, but be careful, I don't think it's something he really wants to have to talk about over and over again."

She nodded again, "I'll be careful, don't worry," she assured him as she headed out the room and upstairs.

* * *

><p>Elisaveta thought he might be in the bathroom, where she had found him last time, but when she glanced inside, the only thing that seemed different was the foul odour of sick that hung in the air. She reminded herself to sort that out later and closed the door to, before checking the other rooms.<p>

Eventually, she found Gilbert leaning against the wall in one of the spare rooms. She walked over to him and sat silently next to him.

A few minutes passed before Gilbert said anything, "Did he tell you?" He asked.

She nodded, "I'm so sorry," she said.

Gilbert looked a little annoyed, "Don't be, it's not like you have anything to do with it."

She sighed, "Why haven't you told the police or anything? I'm pretty sure what he did constitutes as a crime."

"I can't," he said simply.

"Why not?"

"'Cause that motherfucker's probably got people working for him in the police…and he still knows where my brother lives, so if I do anything to get him into trouble, he might do something to him, and I couldn't forgive myself if my brother got hurt."

Elisaveta looked horrified, "How does he know where your brother lives?"

"Huh, Roderich didn't tell you as much as I thought he would…Ivan used to stalk me, when I was younger, so he found out where I lived, and Ludwig still lives there."

Elisaveta reached out her hand and interlaced her fingers with Gilbert's. He looked surprised at first, but relaxed and smiled at her. "You can stay here again tonight if you want," she suggested, "Because I can't imagine you want to walk home alone at this hour." She glanced outside the window, where it had started to get dark.

Gilbert shook his head, "Thanks," he said quietly, "I might go to sleep now actually, I'm pretty tired."

Elisaveta frowned, "Antonio mentioned you're always tired."

Gilbert laughed, "With the amount that guy talks about me, you'd think he fancies me or something," his face fell, "I might talk to him about that actually…"

Elisaveta giggled, "Don't worry, he's pretty smitten with his boyfriend," she let go of Gilbert's hand and stood up. She walked over to the door, then paused and turned back around, "Roderich and I are always here if you need us you know."

Gilbert nodded, "Thanks," he said again.

She headed back downstairs to where Roderich was sitting at his piano, playing a piece she didn't recognise. She sat down on the seat next to him, "What are you playing?"

He lifted his fingers off the keys and rested them in his lap, "I don't know," he admitted, "I just felt like playing…sometimes I just improvise."

"It sounded sad," she noted.

Roderich closed the lid on the keys and looked at her, "How is he?"

Elisaveta smiled, "Last night you were demanding to know why the hell he was here."

Roderich frowned, "There's been a slight change of circumstance though, hasn't there?"

"Mm, he seemed alright, but I worry he's just pretending to be alright, so he doesn't worry us…that idiot." She said the last part fondly though and Roderich gave her a quizzical look.

"You're in love with him," he said, and Elisaveta knew he didn't mean it as question, simply a statement.

She froze momentarily, before saying, "But Roderich," she relaxed so her head was resting on his shoulder, "So are you."

**As this story gets nearer and nearer to the end, I keep looking at my planned scenes and realise that some of them just aren't going to fit in, so I may post a series of drabbles after I've finished of scenes that didn't quite make it, but I still like (Scenes with child Ludwig and his father, the USUK plotline, some more scenes with Yekaterina etc.)**

**I was researching some stuff for the end of this fic yesterday and I panicked because I thought I'd completely screwed something up, but then I found out that I hadn't. *wipes brow* Phew! Otherwise I'd have to change the ending again XD And I'm happy with the one I have planned~**

**As usual, thank you to the incredible people who have reviewed, seeing the little '1' in my hotmail inbox gives me a heart attack every time, and reading them fills me with joy, so I'd love more reviews!**


	16. Chapter 16: Coffee

**A/N: This is almost a week late, I am so terribly sorry D: I've had awful writer's block, and I was in bed for 36 hours straight earlier this week. Crappy illness is crappy :(**

**Anyway, it's about time a chapter was called that, huh? There's a lot of coffee in this fanfiction...which is weird because I hate coffee. (Om nom nom tea. I'm a Brit, what did you expect?)**

**Anyway, this chapter hasn't been proofread, so I'm sorry if it sucks, usually, my sister and I go over a chapter after I've wrote it, so there could be some spelling/grammar mistakes**, **or just some really rubbish lines. I may have to re-upload this chapter later.**

Roderich opened his eyes but quickly shut them again as natural light burned into them. He waited a minute, then opened them again, but more slowly this time.

He loved having lie-ins, waking up early was simply too much hassle. He sat up slowly and glanced at the clock, it was already getting on for midday, he frowned. How on earth did he manage to sleep that much?

He got out of bed, feeling a little sorry for Elisaveta, who had to wake up at about seven every morning if she hoped to get to work on time, he was always moody when he woke up early…although he wouldn't deny he wasn't always moody when he woke up late either.

He showered and dressed, smartly of course. Even when he wasn't going out anywhere, he felt strange in anything other than formal clothes, Elisaveta often teased him about that, and he could never quite come up with something to counter it with.

He walked downstairs, as usual craving his morning – or noon even if he didn't hurry up – coffee. But when he passed the living room, he had to do a double take; sure that he had seen someone in there.

Sprawled on the couch, lightly snoring, was Gilbert. Roderich had forgotten momentarily that Gilbert was still there. Gilbert looked oddly peaceful there, and he wasn't crying out like the last time Roderich had seen him there. Roderich stood watching him for a couple more minutes, before an image flashed into his mind of Elisaveta doing exactly the same. He felt a slight pain in his chest as he turned to the kitchen.

He opened the high cupboard which held the mugs and took out his favourite, a pale blue mug decorated with a single treble clef. He turned the kettle on, then hesitantly took out another mug; perhaps Gilbert would want some coffee too.

As he poured the water into the mugs, he tried to decide exactly how to wake Gilbert, last time he had tried, Gilbert had pushed away from him quite violently, and he was sure that if that happened when he was holding two steaming mugs of coffee that someone was going to get hurt.

He still hadn't decided exactly what he was going to do when he walked back into the lounge, but thankfully, Gilbert had woken up and was bending down slightly; reading the spines of the books on a bookshelf that sat to the left of the largest sofa. Roderich frowned, "What are you doing?"

Gilbert straightened up and looked behind him, slightly surprised, but then turned back to the bookshelves. Roderich doubted he was looking for something to read, Gilbert struck him as the kind of person who had never read a book in his life. He was about to ask again when Gilbert spoke up, pulling a large tome out of the neatly arranged shelves and idly flicking through it, "You can tell a lot about a person by looking at their book or CD collection," he said vaguely, "My dad, for instance, you take one look at his books and you'd know he was a doctor. My brother only read non-fiction books, when he was younger anyway, don't know about now, they were mostly history books, World War 2, Roman history…that pretty much sums him up."

Roderich's frown deepened, "What about me?"

Gilbert shrugged, still distractedly flicking through a book, "Predictable, books on famous composers and large novels you've probably never read, but you put on your shelf to look intellectual."

Roderich was about to protest when Gilbert snapped the book he was holding shut, turned his head to Roderich, and raised his eyebrows, an amused smile playing on his lips, "And you've got some pretty homoerotic looking novels too."

Roderich flushed bright red, "Th-those are Elisaveta's!"

Gilbert grinned, "Sure they are." He placed the book back on the bookshelf, but now where it was supposed to go, and on its side. He pivoted and fell back onto the sofa.

Roderich, still slightly flustered, walked over to him and sat down next to him, handing him the drink. "And Ivan's?" Roderich asked tentatively.

Gilbert looked at him, slightly confused, slightly pained, and then realised what he was talking about. He stared down at his coffee, "Communist propaganda mostly, and Russian novels."

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Roderich smiled slightly. Gilbert leant his head back on the sofa and looked at him, "What?"

"Same as yesterday." Roderich commented.

Gilbet laughed, but it sent chills down Roderich's spine, "Oh, I'm pretty used to that, I wouldn't worry," Gilbert said bitterly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that."

"It's fine, in fact you know what? The days where he would make me stay in the same place day after day were better. Sure, it's boring as hell, I felt isolated, I felt alone, I wanted to go outside. But he wasn't hurting me, I had time alone, to think at first, but as it went on, the only thing I had to think about was what happened when I wasn't so lucky to have Ivan ignoring me." Roderich noticed Gilbert's grip on his mug tighten. "So instead I spent all the time counting."

Roderich was puzzled, "Counting?"

"Yeah, I used to keep a tally, of every day I was there, I scratched it into the wall behind my bed, so Ivan wouldn't see, then when I used up al of that wall space, I scratched it into the back of the wardrobe." Gilbert fell slightly more into the sofa, "It gave me a kind of hope. I'd sometimes count down to days when I was younger, like going to a concert, or my first day at secondary school, or my driving test," He smiled at Roderich when he said the last one, "So I tried to make it feel like I was counting down to something, like I was going to get out one day."

He sighed, "But I gave up eventually, after a few years, I kind of lost hope that I was ever going to get out, it already felt like I'd been there forever." He tilted his head and the smile from his face had faded into a thoughtful look.

Roderich watched him, unsure again of what to say. But Gilbert hadn't finished, "So that's what I did when I was alone, I just sat there and counted how many fucking days I'd been there…or the ones I'd been conscious to record anyway."

Roderich paled considerably, and he felt the sickness that he had felt the day before returning, that horrible feeling of wanting to know what happened, but not knowing whether he was really prepared to hear the truth.

Gilbert looked at him, "You don't look so good."

Roderich smiled, "Says you."

"Whatever," he put down his mug of coffee, which he had actually managed to finish this time, "I should probably be getting home anyhow, I've kinda intruded on you guys a bit."

Roderich put his own mug down and stood up, "I can drive you if you'd like."

Gilbert paused for a second, thinking, then nodded, "Okay. Thanks."

They headed to the door, Roderich was about to pull on a coat, but Gilbert gave him an incredulous look, "Dude, it's boiling out there, it's the fucking April heat wave, I think you'll look presentable enough in that." Gilbert indicated to the clothes he was wearing.

Roderich sighed and was about to put his coat back when Gilbert reached out and grabbed the jacket that was underneath it, "Forgot about that," he said, swinging it over his arm, "It's Francis's, better get it back to him."

They headed out the door and into the car. Roderich couldn't help notice Gilbert tense up considerably when he closed the car doors. He decided to distract him with conversation, "You should probably tell your father…about Ivan I mean."

Gilbert was staring out the window, but he turned to look at Roderich, "I already told you no, he's better off not knowing."

Roderich rolled his eyes, "Well, you should tell someone at least."

"Er, I told you, dumbass."

Roderich tutted slightly but didn't say anything else. They sat in silence for the rest of the journey, but as Roderich pulled up to Antonio's house he spoke up again, "If you won't tell anyone else…then Elisaveta and I," he paused for a little while, "You can always talk to us."

Gilbert looked at him, slightly surprised, but then he smiled, "Sure, well, see you soon then, yeah?"

Roderich nodded, "I hope so, and don't do anything stupid."

"As if I ever do," he stood out the car and slammed the door, waved briefly at Roderich then walked up the drive without looking back.

* * *

><p>Gilbert strolled into the house and called out, "Antonio? Francis? Anyone in?"<p>

He heard a muffled response from the living room and headed inside. Francis indicated for him to sit down, and smiled knowingly at him, "So, where 'ave you been for ze past two days?"

Gilbert shrugged, "At Roderich and Elisaveta's place."

Francis looked at him surprised, "Really? Ohonhonhon~ they don't really strike me as the type…"

Gilbert hit him lightly on the arm, "I wasn't sleeping with them you ass."

"As if. Anyway, you want to do anyzing today? I'm bored, and Antonio is at work, you don't 'ave work, do you?"

"Er, great question, I'll tell Arthur I'm still feeling ill if he asks."

"Fabulous. So what do you want to do?"

Gilbert shrugged, "Dunno, see, I don't usually do very much."

"I'd noticed; your favourite pastime seems to be 'iding away in your room," he thought for a second, "'Ow about we café-hop and try to pick up some cute waitresses?"

Gilbert laughed, "Is that seriously what you do in your spare time?"

"Well, I like to pick up cute waiters too," Francis winked.

"Fine, whatever, it's something to do I suppose." But at the back of Gilbert's mind, the fact that last time he was in town, he had bumped Ivan was nagging him. Did Ivan go into town often now that he was seeing that Asian guy? Or it had looked like that anyway; maybe he worked for Ivan, Gilbert wasn't even sure.

Francis had stood up and was heading towards the door, he turned, "You coming zen?"

Gilbert considered the risks, he supposed he was with Francis, so that might give him some safety, but Francis wasn't particularly strong, and if he froze up like last time, he was pretty sure Ivan could talk Francis into leaving.

"'Ello-o? Gilbert! Are you coming or not?"

Gilbert stood up, "Yeah, just…nothing."

Francis pulled on his shoes, which looked suspiciously like girl's shoes, before saying, "No, what eez it?"

"Just, if we bump into a tall, Russian guy, can we get away quickly?"

Francis narrowed his eyes at him, "Eez that your ex?"

Gilbert slammed the wall, "For fuck's sake, why does everyone think that?"

Francis's eyes widened, he looked slightly scared, and when he spoke his tone was somewhat bitter, "Because, _Gilbert_, zat eez what you told us."

Gilbert was pissed that the tone of the conversation had turned sour so quickly, "I said I was with someone," he shot back, "Not that I was dating them."

Francis became simply confused, "And what ze 'ell eez zat supposed to mean exactly?"

"Doesn't matter, let's just go."

Francis scowled, "Fine, but I swear, if you don't tell me what the 'ell is bugging you soon, I may 'ave to get it out of you with more, ah, unconventional methods."

Gilbert stared at his friend in horror, what exactly did he mean by that? He tried not to think about it and followed Francis outside.

Even though it scared him, he did like going outside, it gave him a sense of freedom, of rebellion, because it wasn't something he was really able to do at Ivan's. Sure, he went into the garden sometimes, mostly with Yekaterina when he was still a teenager, but Ivan had let him go outside sometimes. Well, not _let_ exactly, more like forced him to.

_He could hear his teeth chattering and tried to stop it; he didn't need a headache as well. _

_ The snow hadn't stopped falling for the past hour and it was quickly becoming unmanageable, it was building up around his legs, and his bare feet had already become completely numb with cold._

_ He wanted to sit down, he was feeling far too weak to stand up for so long, but he would only make himself colder, and besides, Ivan was smiling at him maliciously, sitting down would be_ _like giving in. _

_ He folded his arms, hoping that would give him more warmth, he looked at Ivan, "C-can I go b-back inside?"_

_ Ivan smiled more, "But you always tell me how much you hate it in that house," He leant down, "Had a change of heart?"_

_ Gilbert glared back, envious that Ivan seemed completely unperturbed by the weather, but then again, he was wearing a warm coat and a scarf. Gilbert was wearing clothes that were more suited to summer._

_ The snow continued to fall and Gilbert's bare arms had turned a very unhealthy red. Ivan cocked his head to the side, "It's much colder in the winter in Russia," he said matter-of-factly, before walking past Gilbert. Gilbert knew he wasn't supposed to follow, but he desperately wanted to as he heard the back door close._

_ He fell onto the floor now, too exhausted to keep standing up. He curled into a ball, hoping it might help him keep warm, but he had long forgotten his science lessons from school, so he wasn't really sure what the best way was to preserve his body heat._

_ Out in the white, blank cold, Gilbert began to feel very alone, and he felt a single tear fall down his face, but it froze before it reached his chin. He buried his head in his knees._

_ He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but when he finally heard the door open again behind him, he no longer had the strength even to stand up._

Damn, he was glad it was spring.

* * *

><p>They sat in a small French café not to far away from Tino's. Francis was drinking coffee rather than his usual wine and talking to Gilbert about amusing things that had happened in his workplace over the last few years.<p>

Gilbert was only half listening; he was more intent on checking the door in case Ivan walked in like last time. He jumped slightly every time the door opened, but every time it was simply a small group of friends, or a young woman who Francis would make some highly inappropriate comment about.

Eventually Francis sighed, "Gilbert," he said quite loudly.

Gilbert forced his eyes away from the door for a second, "Yeah?"

"I 'ave spent the last ten minutes talking about jam sandwiches, I can tell you're not listening."

Gilbert stared at him incredulously, "how the fuck did you manage to talk about jam sandwiches for ten minutes?"

"'Zat's beyond ze point, what's bothering you?"

Gilbert looked back at the door briefly then turned his attention fully to Francis, "Look, I'll tell you okay, just not right now; I'd rather tell you and Antonio at the same time anyway."

Francis smiled, "Well, 'zat's a start I suppose," he paused to drink some coffee, "You seem to be a little calmer than last time I saw you."

Gilbert shrugged, "Maybe getting out at the weekend helped."

Francis smiled again, it was a warm smile, and not something Gilbert really related with his blond friend. At school, he had been quite a shallow person, and although he still had his flirtatious youthfulness, he had grown up a lot too; he seemed more caring now, which Gilbert supposed made him even more charming to the ladies…and men for that matter. "Well, maybe you should go out more, zen. I would very much like to see you back to your old self again."

Gilbert grinned back at him, despite Francis being kind of weird most of the time; he couldn't help feeling a rush of affection towards him, and Antonio too. He had been seriously anti-social towards them both since he had been back, but they had done nothing but try to help him fit in again, and look after him. But no way would he ever admit that to them, he sounded way too soppy.

Francis stood up, "Well, we've spent ages here, and ze waitresses aren't even zat cute, let's find somewhere else."

Gilbert agreed, and followed Francis, who was winking at another customer, out of the café.

They walked along a reasonably crowded shopping street. Gilbert dreaded to think what it was like along here on weekends. He stuck quite close to Francis, not wanting to be at the mercy of the crowd, which he was pretty sure he could be easily swallowed by.

Francis seemed to sense his discomfort and stepped towards another café, "Let's go in 'ere."

As they headed in, Francis's mobile phone started playing a tune that Gilbert didn't recognise, but then again he wasn't exactly up-to-date with modern music, he had only really heard weird Russian music at Ivan's. Everything else was considered 'capitalist trash'.

Francis flicked open his phone and looked at it. Oh, it must have been a text. Gilbert eyed his phone, it was similar to one Ivan had used, and it looked seriously damn complicated, Gilbert could only really remember phones being able to text and call, but Antonio had recently got into a rant about 'smart phones' which could apparently access internet and stuff. Gilbert had no idea how the world seemed to have advanced a hundred times since he had gone away, but it was pretty cool.

He looked quizzically at Francis as they ordered more drinks, but cold this time, "Who was the text from?"

"Antonio, 'e finished work slightly early today, and 'e was wondering where we were, I've told 'im to meet us 'ere. The school's not far away, so I'm sure 'e won't be long."

Gilbert sat down on the table nearest the window; he told himself he was simply used to doing so because that's what he did when he was with Elisaveta, but he knew the real reason was so that he could watch people outside in case he saw an unwelcome face.

Francis sat down next to him and looked at Gilbert, "'Ave you got a mobile?" He asked.

Gilbert shook his head, "Nah, haven't got round to getting one yet, but then I'm pretty much never out on my own, I'm always round someone else's house, or out with someone else, so it's not like I can't be contacted," an image flashed in his head of being alone with Ivan, with no way of contacting anyone, "But maybe I'll get one soon," he added hurriedly.

Francis nodded, "Cool."

They carried on chatting for a little while longer, Gilbert actually involved this time, but he still glanced to the door every now and then. Eventually, Antonio burst through the door, "Hola!" He called cheerily before sitting down in the seat opposite Gilbert.

Francis laughed, "Actually, we were just about to leave, eez zat alright?"

Antonio shrugged, "Sure."

All three of them stood up and headed out, they turned onto a slightly quieter road, which Gilbert was thankful for. They walked into another café, more to Gilbert's taste than the previous two, it was simple, and, to Francis's delight, had young, pretty waitresses.

Francis smiled, "I'll order."

They sat down at a table together and immediately Antonio looked at Gilbert, the happy look fading from his face, "Elisaveta," he said bluntly, "You told Elisaveta what was wrong before you told _us_."

"What? How the hell do you know that?"

"'Cause as soon as she saw me in the staff room today, she burst into tears and demanded to know why I hadn't told her. She must have thought I knew."

Gilbert's face fell, "Did she tell you?"

Antonio shook his head, "Nah, when I calmed her down and explained that I didn't know, she sussed ya didn't really want me to know, so she refused to tell me."

Gilbert breathed a sigh of relief before taking a sip of his drink, "Sorry, I wasn't planning to tell her what happened before you guys, or Roderich for that matter, it just kind of…happened."

Antonio looked disbelieving, "You told Roderich? But I thought he hated you or something."

"Yeah, long story."

Antonio looked slightly hurt, and glanced at Francis, who simply shrugged.

Gilbert looked at the door absently, trying to decide whether to tell them or not. He had managed to tell Roderich, and he was closer to Francis and Antonio than he was to him, right? But he was scared what they would think of him, what they might say about him, he already knew Antonio talked about him a lot, what would he say if he knew the truth about Ivan?

Gilbert bit his lip and decided against it, maybe another time, he thought, but not now.

**Francis is really growing on me :I When I sat down to write this fic I decided that the main role of Gilbo's 'friend' would be Antonio, but Francis seems to be taking over a little, haha.**

**When I ran out of inspiration this week, I started reading 'A Good War', it's not bad actually~ And I plan to read 'Birdsong' next~ And I've been reading X-men Fanfiction again, the new film made me fall in love with it once more ~ (Although I'm not reading a 45-chapter WolverinexRogue like last time I became obsessed with it :I)**

**And every day I seem to fall more in love with Belarus, I think my next big fanficition once I finally finish this may be a Belarus-centric** **one, if I can come up with a decent plot line that is~**

**Anyway, as usual, thank you to you amazing people who review, you make me glow with happiness *sits here and glows for a bit***. **So please do review if you have anything to say! And I promise next time I'll crack on with the plot, rather than dawdling like I am at the moment...I'm just scared of rushing, sorry if I'm boring you!**

**EDIT: I am such a flop :/ Mobile Phones are Cell Phones to most of you guys I believe~**

**The 'April Heatwave' is something we get every year in England, I don't know about other countries. We basically get one week where it's stupidly hot and sunny...then it rains all summer XD**

**'Cafe-hopping' is basically spending a day chilling in as many cafes as is possible, it's good fun, especially in London, because there's so many cafes, I pretty much always do it when I'm down in London~  
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	17. Chapter 17: Losing Grip

**A/N: I'd like to start by thanking the incredible, incredible people who have stuck with me this far, this fic wasn't even supposed to be this long (15 chapters was the original goal, naturally, it's been quite heavily extended xD), and to those people who have reviewed, accept my further thanks, you really, really make my day.**

**This chapter is, well, _long_, it's almost as long as chapter 3, which was stupidly long. **

Roderich stared down at the piano keys feeling extremely frustrated. He was glad that he had taken Gilbert home, as he wasn't sure he could deal with him around right now.

He began to play Chopin's prelude op. 28 number 4 in E minor to distract himself, but he couldn't stop his mind wandering to what Elisaveta had said to him the night before.

He couldn't be in love with Gilbert, he just _couldn't_. It wasn't that he was worried about being attracted to another man, he had dated Vash for almost a year at secondary school, and he wasn't going to deny that he had liked Gilbert back then too.

Maybe if it was any other time, he wouldn't be so bothered, but it was less than two months until he was supposed to be getting married for God's sake, he couldn't very well be admiring other people.

But more than that, when he had brought up Elisaveta's feelings, she hadn't even attempted to deny them.

He changed what he was playing; Chopin was for when he was angry, and he wasn't really, simply upset; he didn't really know what to play when he was upset; it wasn't something he experienced often.

He heard the front door open and soon after Elisaveta appeared in the doorway of the living room. Roderich didn't stop playing, but he looked up and smiled at her. She walked over to him and leant on the piano, "What are you playing?"

He shrugged, "I don't really know."

"That seems to be happening a lot lately," Elisaveta commented as she fell onto the sofa near to the piano and listened to him play.

A few minutes passed, then Elisaveta bit her lip and looked at Roderich, "I didn't realise we were the only two people who know where Gilbert's been."

He stopped playing and looked at her, feeling a little worried, "Oh goodness, how did you find that out exactly?"

She blushed, "I, er, caused a bit of a scene in the staff room this morning, I was angry at Antonio for not telling me, turns out he had no idea what I was on about."

"Oh. Oh dear…well, if it's any comfort, Toris knows, so you could always shout at him," he smiled at her and turned back in the piano, but after a few failed starts at playing again, he closed the lid on the keys and went to sit next to Elisaveta.

She looked confused, "I didn't realise he was close to Toris."

"He's not, I don't think, but Toris was his doctor whilst he was living with Ivan."

Elisaveta's eyebrows shot up into her hair and she pulled out her phone, "I should call him," she frowned as she found his contact number, "He hasn't called me in a while actually, or Feliks for that matter."

Roderich looked at her, the walked into the kitchen, he needed more coffee, and he really couldn't be bothered to listen to Elisaveta's chat with Toris, it would probably end up with them talking about trivial matters that didn't interest him anyway.

He made the coffee and walked back into the lounge, where, to his great surprise, Elisaveta was already off her phone. She looked at him, the frown still on her face, "Feliks picked up…he doesn't seem himself at all, and apparently Toris wasn't there…but I got the impression he just didn't want to talk to me," she sighed, "I swear life is really screwed up at the moment."

Roderich sat back down next to her and placed his mug on the coffee table before pulling her into a hug, "It'll be all right," he assured her, "Besides, we're getting married soon," he pulled away slightly and smiled down at her, "That's something to look forward too, right?"

She smiled back and nodded. Roderich felt relieved, he was really worried about her and Gilbert, but she still seemed to like him, but was that exclusively, or alongside Gilbert? He felt his own face fall into a frown, why did everything have to be so confusing?

Elisaveta started speaking again, "So he's told Toris, who seems to be ignoring me… what about his family? Surely they know."

Roderich shook his head, "I tried to get him to tell his father, and his brother, but he refused flat out."

Elisaveta shook her head, "Then try again, he can't just keep it to himself and us, he'll drive himself insane."

"I know," he sighed, "But he's pretty difficult to talk to."

She shoved him lightly, "Just try, you may as well, I'll get dinner on."

He was surprised, "Right now?"

She shrugged as she stood up and flattened the creases on her skirt, "Why not?"

He tutted slightly, but he had nothing better to do he supposed, "Fine, I'll try, but I can't promise he'll listen." He quickly kissed Elisaveta on the cheek and pulled his shoes on before heading out the door and driving to Antonio's house.

As he pulled onto the road that he lived on, he realised he was directly behind Francis's car and it looked like Gilbert and Antonio were in the car with him. _Good timing_, Roderich thought smugly, despite it not actually being his decision to come.

He pulled up next to Francis's car and waited for the three friends to start walking towards their house before he stepped out. "Gilbert!" He called as he stood up and closed his car door.

All three of them turned around, Gilbert looking slightly surprised, "Oh, hey, did I leave something at yours?"

He shook his head and smiled briefly at Antonio who was waving at him, "No, actually, I came here to talk to you."

Antonio chimed in, "You should come inside, ain't Elisaveta with ya?"

Roderich walked up to them, "No, I'm afraid not, and I can't stay for long, she'll be expecting me home."

They all headed inside, Antonio and Francis seemingly arguing about something, probably football, as Roderich didn't understand a word of it. He looked at Gilbert as Antonio and Francis carried on bickering as they walked into the lounge, "Can we talk in the kitchen?"

Gilbert shrugged and strutted into the kitchen, before pulling himself up onto the counter, did he always do that? Roderich tutted and walked in as well. There was an awkward silence for a couple of seconds before Roderich spoke, "I was talking to Elisaveta," he started, looking tentatively up at Gilbert, who had a frown plastered on his face, "She agrees with me, she thinks you should talk to your father."

"I told you no, and I'm still saying no, okay?"

"No, it's not okay, why won't you tell him?"

"I already fucking told you, I-"

"You're scared to," Roderich butted in.

Gilbert fell silent.

Roderich rolled his eyes, "You shouldn't be scared, Gilbert, he's your father, he'll understand."

Gilbert shook his head, "You've never met my father, you wouldn't know," he paused, "Why didn't you just call me?"

"Because you'd probably hang up as soon as I suggested telling someone."

Gilbert fell silent again.

Roderich smiled wryly at him, "For someone who's so full of himself, you can sure be a wimp when you want to."

Gilbert snarled at him, "Shut up."

He sighed, "Fine, but trust me, you'll feel better if your friends and family know what you've gone through."

Something flashed across Gilbert's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and his face once again formed a frown, "Okay, I might tell him…but not Ludwig."

Roderich wasn't sure whether to smile or tut, so he just stared at Gilbert, "But why not?"

Gilbert smiled slightly at him, "'Cause I can see how shit I've made you feel 'cause you know that I lived with Ivan to protect you, I don't want to make my brother feel like that too…not that I wanted you to."

Roderich stared awkwardly down at his feet, Gilbert had a point; he still felt partly responsible for what happened to him. He looked back up, "Fair enough, but you'll have to tell him eventually," he glanced at the clock, "I should be getting home soon.."

Antonio's voice called out from the lounge, "Hey, Gil! You like Chinese food? We can't be arsed to cook tonight!"

Gilbert looked at Roderich then shouted back, "I've got somewhere I gotta go…I'll eat later."

Roderich smiled, "I would offer you a lift, but I don't actually have a clue where your father lives."

"That's cool, I'll get Ludwig to take me or something."

"Well, goodbye then, I'll see you soon I hope."

"Yeah…see ya."

Roderich walked back out the house and to his car; that had been easier than he expected actually. He made a mental note to call Gilbert in the morning to ask how it went before he drove home.

He arrived back at his house and walked into the kitchen where Elisaveta was cooking, he smiled at her, "I got him to tell his father."

She smiled sadly back, "Good, that might make him feel a little better."

He sighed, "I hope so,"

She looked at him quizzically, "You seem unsettled, did Gilbert say something?"

"No, it's just…I feel a little responsible."

Elisaveta froze, and her tone turned slightly icy, "You told me you had nothing to do with it."

"Not knowingly…but Gilbert lived with that bastard for eight years because he was threatening me and his brother."

Elisaveta's expression softened considerably, "Roderich, that doesn't mean it's your fault at all, you shouldn't think like that."

Roderich nodded, but he didn't feel any better. Elisaveta went back to cooking for a little before she looked at Roderich, "I kinda feel responsible too," she admitted.

Roderich was confused, "Elisaveta, you didn't even know Gilbert when he was a teenager, how the hell could you have anything to do with it?"

She picked uncomfortably at her sleeve, like she always did when she was nervous, "The Braginski family…that was his name right?"

"Yes, Ivan Braginski I think."

"Well, I didn't know Ivan personally, but the Ottomans…we were involved with the Braginskis," she turned back to cooking, but she kept talking, "They're arms dealers, it's how we got our weapons."

Roderich stared at her in horror, "You might not want to tell Gilbert that," he said quietly, as if Gilbert were listening.

Elisaveta shook her head, "I probably should, I feel fucking awful, I pretty much funded the guy who was beating the shit out of Gilbert everyday."

Roderich sighed, "Well, this is all kind of a mess, isn't it?"

Elisaveta rolled her eyes, "You're telling me?"

* * *

><p>Gilbert walked into the lounge to Antonio and Francis. Antonio looked a little surprised, "Roderich leave already?"<p>

"Yeah, he just wanted to talk to me about something briefly," Gilbert replied as he went to the phone and flicked through the phonebook, where he assumed he would find Ludwig's number, Antonio and him seemed to be in contact, so it would make sense.

He found it pretty quickly and typed it into the phone.

He heard his brother's tired voice on the other line, "Antonio? What's wrong? Is it something to do with Gilbert?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "Er, Ludwig, this is Gilbert."

There was silence, then, "Oh."

"Yeah, anyway, I'm fine if you're wondering, I was hoping you might be able to drive me to dad's house tonight, are you free?"

"I think so, let me just check."

The sound of the slight buzzing of the telephone was all that reached Gilbert's ear for the next minute or so, until his brother came back, "Yeah, I've got nothing on, do you want me to pick you up from Antonio's, or are you coming round here?"

"You coming here would be good."

"Okay, I'm heading over there now then, see you in a bit."

Gilbert said goodbye and put the phone down before flopping down on the couch for a quick rest.

Francis looked at him, "'ow come you're going to your dad's?"

Gilbert shrugged, "I need to talk to him."

"When about are you going to be back?"

"Not sure, you guys go ahead and eat without me though, I might be a while."

He heard a car horn beeping out the front and stood up, "Well, see you guys later," he said, walking out the living room. He felt his stomach churning, not out of hunger, but out of nerves; he had no idea what he was going to say to his dad, everything he tried to form in his mind seemed to jumble up and become utter rubbish.

He sighed and pulled himself into the passenger seat of Ludwig's car, "Thanks bruder."

Ludwig smiled at him, "It's fine, it's good to see you actually leaving your house," Gilbert saw Ludwig's eyes flicker to his right leg where he had stabbed himself before he started the engine and began to drive.

Instead of worrying about Julius this time, Gilbert tried to work out roughly the way they were going so that he would have some idea if he ever needed to get there by himself. Ludwig seemed quite content with sitting in silence and the journey seemed to go by quite quickly.

Gilbert stood out the car once they arrived, and Ludwig made to join him but Gilbert leaned back into the car, "You can wait here if you want, I'll try not to be too long, I just need to talk to Dad about something."

Ludwig sighed, "Fine, but don't take too long."

"I won't," Gilbert assured him, before slamming the door and walking up the driveway to his father's house. He knocked on the door and waited a few seconds until Paolo opened it, "Hey Gilbert! Wasn't expecting you." Oh yeah, Gilbert had forgotten about him.

He grinned, "I decided to pop round, is my dad in?"

"Yeah, not sure where though, probably in the lounge," Paolo stood aside to let Gilbert in, then closed the door and sat down on the stairs with his laptop, presumably where he had been before Gilbert arrived.

He heard his father's voice, "Paolo? Who was at the door?"

Gilbert walked into the lounge and smiled nervously, "It's only me."

His father looked surprised, "Oh, Gilbert," he smiled slightly, "Good to see you, I didn't realise you were coming round."

Gilbert cleared his throat and rammed his hands into his pockets, "Err, actually, there's something I really need to talk to you about."

His father's eyed narrowed slightly, curiously, "What?"

Gilbert fell onto an armchair and looked at him, "No, it can wait, how are you?"

His father sighed, "I'm fine Gilbert, just a little worried about you."

Gilbert smiled, "You shouldn't be, I'm-" he stopped, "Well, I'm fine now I guess, but that's kinda what I came here to talk to you about," he walked over to the sofa that his father was sitting on.

He stared down at his hands, and picked at his fingernails. His father seemed to sense that he was worried and smiled comfortingly at him, "Take your time," he said.

Gilbert nodded and swallowed, "You know the guy I've been living with for the past eight years."

His father smiled and nodded, "Well, not personally, but I know you've been living with someone."

"Right, well he, er, he…" Fuck, what the hell was he supposed to say? He looked up at his father, who was looking back at him expectantly. He swallowed again, "Dad, he-" his voice caught in his throat. Verdammt, he couldn't fucking say it.

His father now looked concerned, "Gilbert, what is it?"

He tried to speak again, but he couldn't get any sound out. He shook his head, then took hold of the edge of his top and ripped it off, "He did this to me," he finally blurted out.

His father's face fell and Gilbert held his breath, waiting for him to say something. He stayed silent, and Gilbert drew his arms across his chest, suddenly feeling extremely exposed.

His father closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them again, "Gilbert," he said quietly, "How long has this been happening?"

Gilbert looked down, and shakily admitted, "Twelve years."

His father nodded, and Gilbert noticed his jaw had gone very tight, the way his and Ludwig's did when they were upset. Gilbert shrunk slightly into the sofa, he always wished he could be as strong as his father and Ludwig, but he took after his mother in every way, he would break down when he was upset, he couldn't ever control himself.

His father touched his arm slightly and Gilbert looked up. His father looked worried, "You were seeing this guy when you were still living at home?" His voice sounded slightly choked.

"Er, not seeing him as such, more him seeing me…" he drew his arms further across his chest, "He's quite a bit older than me."

His father nodded, a little too quickly and then asked, "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Gilbert looked away, "Because I thought you'd think I was weak," he admitted and he could hear his voice beginning to waver, "I thought you might be disappointed in me…and I thought you might think I was a slut."

His father gave him a slightly disbelieving look as he ran his hands through his hair. Just like Ludwig. Gilbert looked away again, trying to stop himself crying in front of his father.

He felt his father's hand on his arm and looked back at him, his father tried to smile at him, but it looked like he was struggling, "Gilbert, I don't think any of that about you," he said thickly, "Especially not now," he pulled Gilbert slightly more towards him.

For once, Gilbert didn't feel scared; this was his _father_, not someone out to hurt him. He leant against him and felt his father's arms wrap around him, he smiled slightly, but he could feel tears falling down his face, he always associated touch with pain, that's how it had always been with Ivan, but right now, his father's touch meant safety, comfort.

He heard someone else walk in the room and tensed slightly. He heard his father's voice, "Julius, do you mind leaving us a moment?"

There was a pause, then, "Sure," he heard the footsteps leave again. He relaxed again and his father's attention turned back to him, "Thank you," he said softly.

"For what?"

"For getting away from him…I hate to see you hurt."

Gilbert felt his eyes welling up with more tears and tried to blink them away, but to no avail, "Sorry for not telling you," he said.

His father nodded stiffly, but didn't say anything. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes until Gilbert pulled away, "Sorry, I feel kinda self-conscious," he said, pulling his top back on. His father just nodded again, he seemed almost incapable of speaking.

He looked at Gilbert, "Do you want a drink?"

Gilbert nodded, "Okay," he said quietly.

* * *

><p>Aldrich walked into the kitchen and looked around, feeling slightly lost. These kinds of things just didn't happen to people like him, he had never done anything wrong had he? Why the hell had his son been hurt like that?<p>

He felt faint and clung to the side of the kitchen, he was close to collapsing when he felt strong arms supporting him. He turned around to see Julius smiling down at him, "What's wrong?" He asked.

Aldrich shook his head and put the kettle on, "Nothing," he lied.

"Don't give me that bullshit, I saw what Gilbert looked like, and it sure wasn't 'nothing'."

Aldrich sighed, "Why do you care? You barely even know Gilbert."

"That's a stupid question," Julius said, wrapping his arms around the slighter man, "I care about you, and how your sons are affects you, so of course I care, and besides, although I don't know him that well, he's technically my stepson, so if I didn't give a shit about him, I'd be a pretty rubbish stepdad."

Aldrich sighed and turned back to making the drinks. After a few seconds though, he turned back to his husband, "Gilbert," he started quietly so his son wouldn't be able to hear him, "He's been living with someone who's been abusing him."

Julius frowned. Aldrich continued, "I only saw his chest, but when I hugged him I could feel his back, and it felt even worse, I don't know what the rest of his body looks like…but he was there for eight fucking years, it's hardly going to be pretty, and Gilbert said he's known this guy for twelve years, so since he was about fourteen, and he mentioned that this guy was older…and I can't help thinking that-"

Julius clamped his hand over his mouth to stop him talking, he looked appalled, "Don't think about it," he said, "You'll end up blowing it out of proportion."

Aldrich ripped Julius's arm away angrily, "How can I blow it out of fucking proportion? Have you not noticed how he shies away from people, in fact, I know you _have_ noticed, because you mentioned it to me last time he was here, why the fuck else do you think that is?"

Julius went very quiet. But another voice spoke up, "Dad, calm down, I'm fine."

His head spun to the doorway, where Gilbert was standing.

* * *

><p>Gilbert stared at his father, who was looking rather hysterical. "How the hell are you fine?" He said, trying to sound calm, but failing miserably, "Have you seen yourself?"<p>

"Uh, yeah, surprisingly enough," there was silence for a short while, then Gilbert frowned, "You can't help thinking what? You never finished your sentence."

His father looked at him for a second, then choked out, "This man-"

"He's called Ivan."

"Ivan then, did he ever…sexually assault you?"

Gilbert went silent; it had been hard enough talking about this to Roderich, let alone his father, talking to parents about that kind of thing was just awkward. He drew his arms across his chest again and nodded.

His father glared at Julius, "Blowing it out of proportion am I?" He said, then, without warning, he burst into tears. Gilbert froze, in all of his eighteen years living with his father, he had never once seen him cry, even when his mother went through one of her most awful bouts of depression, not even when she had died, he had sat stony-faced throughout the whole funeral. And yet here he was, in tears, looking a total mess, right in front of him. It felt wrong, seeing his dad like that, he had always been the strong figure in Gilbert's life, seeing him like this, it was _wrong_.

Julius put his arm round him, looking as worried as Gilbert felt, "Aldrich, calm down."

Gilbert heard light, fast footsteps behind him as Paolo ran into the room. He looked at Aldrich and his eyes widened; he turned to his own father, "Papà, what's wrong with Vati?"

Julius shook his head, "It's nothing Paolo, just go to your room."

Paolo didn't budge, "What's going on?"

"Nothing! Just go to your room."

"But-"

"_Go to your room_"

Paolo scowled and walked off, muttering angrily to himself. Gilbert looked back at his father, who had fallen against the kitchen counter, and was still crying, Julius was trying to comfort him, but he seemed slightly surprised by his outburst.

Gilbert walked slowly over, "Dad?" He said awkwardly, "Dad, it's all right now, I'm fine, really."

His father looked up at him and shook his head, "It's not fine, you're my son, I should have been there for you, I shouldn't have let that happen to you." Julius pulled him into a hug.

Gilbert heard more footsteps behind him, he thought Paolo was back at first, but the steps were far to heavy, he turned and felt his throat constrict when he saw Ludwig now standing in the doorway. How the hell was he supposed to explain why there father appeared to be having a mental breakdown?

Ludwig took one look at their father, then turned to Gilbert, "What the hell did you do to make _Dad_ cry?"

Gilbert shook his head, unable to say anything, he hadn't realised he had been in the house so long, he was hoping Ludwig would wait, he really didn't want to have to explain to him too.

"It's nothing," Gilbert whispered, unable to raise his voice any louder.

Julius looked up and smiled at Ludwig, "It's fine, he'll be all right." Gilbert was glad that Julius seemed to understand that he didn't want Ludwig to know. He smiled appreciatively at him.

Ludwig seemed to pause for a second, Gilbert thought he might stop talking, but then he scowled, "Hardly, I've never seen Dad cry before in my life, something's wrong."

Gilbert shook his head, "It's _nothing_."

Ludwig looked angry now, "No it's fucking not! You've been gone for eight years Gilbert! And now you look like shit, you freak out whenever someone tries to touch, you freaking stabbed yourself last week, and now Dad's crying. Something. Is. Wrong!"

Gilbert stared at Ludwig for a second, then turned to his father, who had pulled slightly away from Julius and was looking horrified at Ludwig, he turned to Gilbert, "You stabbed yourself?"

Gilbert closed his eyes, counted to ten and opened them again, he was on the verge of getting very angry, and he really couldn't be doing with that. "I'd just seen Ivan again, I wasn't myself, it's not gonna happen again."

His father didn't look convinced, but it was Ludwig who spoke up, "Who the hell is Ivan?"

Gilbert went pale, he almost said 'no one', but Ludwig looked livid, and he couldn't imagine that would make him feel any better. He bit his lip, then walked over to his little brother, "Promise me, whatever I tell you, you won't blame yourself, okay?"

"What? Why the hell would I blame myself?"

"Doesn't matter, just promise me."

"Fine, whatever."

Gilbert frowned, "Ivan's the guy I've been living with for the past eight years," he said, glancing at his father, "He abused me, that's why Dad's upset," he tried to say it as matter-of-factly as possible, but he could feel the tremor in his voice, and memories of Ivan were creeping to the front of his mind.

Ludwig looked confused, "Wait, why would I blame myself for that?"

Gilbert sighed, "'Cause the only reason I agreed to go live with Ivan was because he was threatening to hurt you and…and a friend of mine."

The colour drained out of Ludwig's face, he looked at their dad, then back at Gilbert, "We should go," he said quietly, then turned and stormed out the room.

Gilbert looked at Julius, who nodded at him. "Dad, I should probably be going," he said cautiously.

His father looked at him, but he didn't quite seem to be seeing him, he nodded, "Okay, but please stay in contact," he begged, "And whatever you do, don't go anywhere near that Ivan fucker again."

Gilbert nodded and headed towards the front door, he noticed Paolo still on the stairs, it was obvious he had been trying to listen to what was going on. When he saw Gilbert, he looked slightly guilty, and ran up the stairs.

Gilbert walked outside and over to Ludwig's car, he sat in the passenger seat and turned his head to his little brother, "Happy?"

"Oh yeah, ecstatic," Ludwig said sarcastically.

Gilbert sighed, "I'm sorry for not telling you before, it's not fucking easy, okay? I've had eight years of my life being controlled by a man who I hate more than anything else in this godforsaken world, surprisingly; my people skills aren't amazing at the moment."

Ludwig slammed his hand against the steering wheel, "Verdammt, Gilbert, I know! I just don't get why you're so bad around me, I'm your brother for God's sake."

Gilbert sighed, "If it's any consolation, Antonio and Francis don't even know yet."

Ludwig went silent for a while, and he seemed to have calmed down considerably when he asked, "What did he do to you?"

Gilbert squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, "I don't really like talking about it," he said. Ludwig's jaw tightened slightly. Gilbert sighed, "I'll tell you eventually, I promise, just not now, please, I need a break."

Ludwig looked at him, and nodded, "Okay"

* * *

><p>Aldrich clung onto Julius as if his life depended on it, he didn't want to believe what Gilbert had told him, had shown him. He didn't want to believe that he had just let his son get hurt like that. But it had happened now, and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.<p>

Julius looked down at him and wiped the tears from his face, "You need to pull yourself together," he said softly, "Gilbert needs you, and you're not much help when you're like this."

Aldrich shook his head, "No, Gilbert needed me twelve years ago, and I didn't fucking do anything."

Julius sighed, "That's because you didn't know; you couldn't have done anything."

"But maybe if I paid more attention to him, or-"

"Aldrich?"

"Hmm?"

"Calm down, that's in the past, okay? Whether you screwed up or not, there's nothing you can do to change it, but what you can do, is be there for him in the future, but you've got to pull yourself together first."

Aldrich nodded, "Right, I'm sorry, I just… imagine if you found out Lovino had spent almost half his life being abused and god knows what else by someone you don't even know?"

Julius looked solemn, "I get your point, okay? And I understand completely why you're so upset," he swallowed, "I'd probably be even worse, but you've got to get over it, please, for Gilbert."

Aldrich sighed, "All right, I will," he pulled Julius towards him again and wrapped his arms around him, "Just give me time."

* * *

><p>When Gilbert got back to Antonio's house, all he wanted to do was sleep, talking to his stressed-out father had been surprisingly draining, and he didn't want to deal with his friends now as well. He stumbled up the stairs and fell onto his bed as soon as he got to his room.<p>

Roderich had said that telling people would make him feel better, but he was pretty sure he felt ten times worse than he had earlier. He hated seeing Ludwig upset, as he had looked on their journey home, but even more so, he hated seeing his father like that, and he had caused it. He had made his father cry.

He sat up and stared blankly at the wall. He screamed and punched it as hard as he could. Why the fuck couldn't he stop hurting the people around him? He punched the wall again, and again, and what felt like a million more times before his bedroom door slammed open and Antonio walked in, a worried look on his face.

Gilbert sunk his head into his now bleeding hands and burst into tears. He felt hands on both of his arms; it felt like Francis was there as well. He wasn't really aware of what was happening, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bathtub, with Francis rubbing small circles into his back as Antonio was running cold water onto his damaged hands.

Gilbert looked up at him, "Will it ever stop?"

Antonio smiled, "The bleeding? Of course."

Gilbert shook his head, "No, just everything else, will it ever fucking stop?"

Antonio looked at Francis, then back to Gilbert, "Gil," he said softly, "I don't know what you're talking about at all, but we're here for you, okay?" He dried Gilbert's hands off, and started wrapping bandages around them. Gilbert wanted to pull his hands away, to tell him to stop, but he didn't have the energy, so he simply sat there and let him do it.

Once he finished, he sat on the other side of Gilbert to Francis and furtively put his hand on Gilbert's shoulder, "Whatever it is that's been happening to you, we're here for ya."

Gilbert nodded and burst into tears, "I just want my life to be normal, you know? Like you guys, I wanted to finish school, to pass my driving test, to date people I liked, to get a job," he looked at Antonio, and Francis, knowing, but no longer caring, how pitiful he must look, "Is that so much to ask?"

Antonio smiled sadly, "I'm sorry Gil."

Francis sighed, "Life does not always go to plan I'm afraid."

Gilbert scowled, "You think I don't fucking know that? Fuck this," he stood up and started heading back to his room. But half way across the landing,he froze, and walked back to the bathroom, "Sorry," he said shakily to his friends.

Antonio shook his head, "It's alright,"

"Sorry," Gilbert repeated, sinking to the floor, "Sorry," he said again as he burst into more tears, and kept saying as he wrapped his hands round his knees and buried his face into them as Francis and Antonio stared cluelessly at their friend, completely at loss at how to help.

**Poor Gilbo and Aldrich :( I'm terribly cruel, but things will get better, I promise!**

**I really wanted to get this chapter up yesterday, because it's largely about Gilbert's relationship with his father, and yesterday was Father's day, but alas, I was visiting my own father down in London, so I couldn't~**

**Review? X3**


	18. Chapter 18: Moving on

**A/N: I'm taking longer and longer to update aren't I? Sorry about that, but I've been busy! I've finally started my education again, but I'm being homeschooled, which is a little strange, but my maths teacher is an anime fan, hell yeah~ And I went to Glee Live on Saturday, which was amazing (For the record, I'm a Klaine, FaBerry, Brittana and Tartie fan, so if I ever get round to writing fics, it'll have those pairings in it...and probably lots of Karofsky :'D)**

**Anyway, this chapter is really short compared to last chapter, and only the first half has been proofread, so I'm so sorry if it's rubbish.**

**And finally, my sister wrote me an awesome poem for my fic, so I'm opening this chapter with that, enjoy!  
><strong>

_I'll smile._

_I'll say hello,_

_Again._

_I'll cry._

_I'll tell a lie,_

_Again._

_I'll play_

_The violin,_

_Again._

_I'll breathe_

_And learn to live,_

_Again._

_I'll kiss_

_You on the lips,_

_Again._

_But please_

_Don't make me see,_

_Again,_

_The things _

_He did to me,_

_Again._

_Please just_

_Let me forget,_

_Again._

_So that I can_

_Smile and say hello again_

_And not cry and tell a lie._

Gilbert walked into Arthur's pub, glad to be away from his home, where Antonio and Francis had been giving him weird looks all morning, and continually asking him if everything was alright. Them caring about was nice, but it had started to become slightly suffocating too.

He smiled at Arthur as he walked in, "Mathias not here today?"

"He's coming later I think, unless he decides he'd rather spend the evening with Lukas," Arthur tutted slightly, "Where have you been anyway, haven't seen you for quite a while, I was starting to worry that you'd quit."

Gilbert shrugged, "Haven't been feeling myself."

Arthur glanced down at Gilbert's hands, and Gilbert cursed internally, he had completely forgotten about the bandages that covered them, he had become somewhat used to them over the course of the day.

"What happened to your hands?" he asked as he poured a pint of beer for a customer, "Looks like you've been getting into fights."

Gilbert frowned, "Something like that."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Always so vague, aren't you? Well anyway, get to work, but feel free to rest for a little if your hands hurt too much."

Most of the afternoon passed without incident, but at five o'clock, Francis strolled in. Gilbert wasn't really sure whether he was happy or not; having a familiar face to talk to was always good, but he had come to work despite feeling crap today to get away from Francis and Antonio in the first place.

Right behind Francis was Mathias who was talking animatedly to him, he grinned as he walked in, "Hej Arthur! Thought you might need some help!"

Arthur smiled back at Mathias but his face fell as he spotted Francis, "What the hell are you doing here? I thought you only drank stupidly swanky French wine."

Francis pulled a mock affronted look, "Hmph, I simply came to say 'ello! But if you are that offended by my presence, I can leave."

Arthur gave him a disbelieving look, "Well, go on then."

Francis stuck his tongue out at him and walked over to the bar, "So, I 'ere your American is back."

Arthur's face fell even further, "Well, yes, but not of his own choice. The friend he was staying with had to go to Japan to visit his relatives, he thought they'd died in the tsunami in March, but it turns out they're alright, and he didn't trust Alfred to look after his house so he's moved back in with me…it's awkward as hell though."

"Mm, sounds it, is 'e here? I'm curious to meet 'im."

Arthur nodded at a young man, almost a boy, sitting near the back of the room, head submerged in a comic book and drinking a very large glass of coke, "That's him, he's usually pretty social, but now he's just sticking his head in comic books non-stop, the idiot."

Francis went very quiet and bit his lip slightly, "Are you sure that's 'im?"

"Of course I'm sure, you bloody frog, he's freaking living with me."

"But you said 'e wasn't gay."

"Well, that's pretty obvious, remember? He totally freaked out when he found out I was."

Francis looked uncomfortably down at his feet then back up at Arthur, "I've slept with 'im," He admitted.

Arthur's jaw dropped open, but he quickly shut it, "Shut up, you're lying to try and wind me up."

Francis looked deadly serious, which was pretty rare actually, "No, I've really slept with 'im, I'm sure, and it was only last week, so it's not like I'd have forgotten what he looked like."

Arthur went very pale, and put down the glass he was holding before storming over to Alfred, a furious look on his face.

Gilbert looked over at Francis, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, maybe Arthur's just not 'is type."

Gilbert sighed, "Ouch."

The door opened and, as usual, Gilbert glanced over to see who it was. The man who had just walked in looked quite a lot like Alfred, but his hair was longer and he didn't have the same easy grace that Alfred had, but seemed to shuffle as he walked and if Gilbert had seen him in the street, he was pretty sure he wouldn't have spared him a second glance.

Francis looked over at the door and swore loudly.

Gilbert eyed him quizzically, "What?"

"It might have been him."

"What might have been him?"

"Ze guy I slept with last week, who I thought was Arthur's little friend…oh merde, his name wasn't even Alfred, how the hell did I forget that?"

Gilbert burst into laughter, "You're fucking kidding me? Well, I'd like to know how Mr. Homophobic American reacts when he finds out his brother –well I'm assuming that's his brother anyway, they look identical – has been screwing guys."

The young man who had walked in saw Francis and blushed slightly before heading over to where Alfred was having an angry shouting match with Arthur.

Curious, Gilbert gravitated over towards the table so he could hear what was going on, Francis unsubtlely followed him.

The man walked over to Arthur and tapped him lightly on the shoulder, before almost whispering, "Um, I'm not disturbing anything am I? I came to talk to Alfred, but if you're busy, I can always come back later."

Gilbert wasn't entirely sure how Francis had mixed up the cocky, angry boy who Arthur was angry at with the timid, barely audible boy who had just arrived.

Arthur turned around and looked surprised, "Oh, you're Matthew, aren't you?"

Matthew looked surprised, "You know me?"

"Only from pictures, you're Alfred's twin."

Matthew smiled and nodded, "Yeah, I've got a six month visa in England, I cam to see Alfred, 'cause apparently things have been going pretty haywire."

Arthur frowned, "You could say that again," he threw a dirty look at Alfred.

Alfred glared right back at him, "It's not my fault, you're the one who's claiming I slept with some French fag I've never even met."

Matthew's eyes widened, "Um, Al, you shouldn't use words like that."

Arthur nodded, "That's what I was about to say, and it's not completely baseless, Francis _told_ me he'd slept with you."

"Well, I never fucking slept with him, okay? C'mon Matt, let's go." Alfred stood up and started walking away, but Matthew was rooted to the spot, staring after his brother with a horrified look on his face.

Alfred spun round, "Matt, you coming?"

Matthew swallowed slightly and said shakily, "Alfred, do you have problem with gay people."

Alfred made an annoyed noise, "No Matt, I just don't like it when they shove it in my face."

Matthew nodded then glanced at Francis briefly before turning back to his brother, "So you wouldn't be mad if I told you that the reason that your friend thinks you slept with that French guy is because _I _slept with him."

Alfred stared at Matthew for a full minute before finally saying, "You're joking, right?"

Matthew shook his head.

Alfred snarled slightly, "Does Dad know?"

Matthew shook his head again.

Alfred gave his brother one last look then ran out the pub. Matthew dropped into a chair and buried his face in his hands. Arthur awkwardly patted him on the back before walking off, but Francis went over to him, "Are you alright?" He asked tentatively.

Matthew looked up and glared at him, "Oh, just perfect."

Francis smiled, "I wouldn't worry about 'im, 'e'll get over it, especially if 'e as got a brother as cute as you."

Matthew continued to glare, "Oh spare me your charm, I may have fallen for it once, but you couldn't even remember my name," he stood up, "You're just like everyone else." He ran out of the pub after his brother, leaving Francis looking quite shocked. Gilbert walked over to him and gripped his shoulder.

"Burn. Bet you don't get rejected often do you?"

"Hmph, he doesn't know what he's missing."

"Err, hate to point this out Francis, but he's already slept with you, so, yeah, he does."

"…Shut up."

The evening was quite busy, and Gilbert made sure he spent most of it behind the bar so that he wouldn't get caught up in crowds. To his surprise, later into the evening, Roderich walked through the door. He caught his eye and waved briefly over at him to show him where he was.

Roderich made his way over to him, looking severely out of place in his fancy clothes. Gilbert grinned at him, "Guessing you don't come here often, do you?"

"No, but I wanted to talk to you, and Antonio said you'd be here."

Gilbert frowned, "You were talking to Antonio?"

"Yes, I rang earlier, I wanted to talk to you, but no one picked up, I knew Antonio was a to work at that point, and the other two of you must have been out, which is probably a good thing, because a phone call with Francis isn't top of my list of things I'd like to do."

Gilbert grinned, "Good thing you weren't here earlier then, he was here for quite a while."

Roderich gave him a slightly miffed look for interrupting him, then continued, "As I was saying, no one picked up, so I rang again later, and Antonio answered, he told me you were pretty upset last night."

"It's nothing, seriously, I just wasn't feeling so good."

"Was it something to do with your Father?"

Gilbert looked around nervously, he always felt like people were eavesdropping on his conversations, even when they were completely wrapped up in their own business, "Kind of," he admitted.

Roderich sat down, "What happened?"

"Well, nothing _happened_ as such, I just…I feel like I'm just making everything worse by being back. Francis and Antonio are worried sick 'cause they don't know what's going on, you and Ludwig feel guilty as hell for what happened, and I've made my Dad and Elisaveta upset, I can't seem to do anything fucking right. I should have just stayed with Ivan, then everything would be normal again."

Roderich closed his eyes, "Don't say that," he said quietly.

"But why not? It's true isn't it? Everything would be so much damn simpler if I wasn't around."

A strange look flashed across Roderich's face, he looked almost guilty, "That may be the case" he said, "But life is never going to be simple, shit happens, we just have to learn to deal with it," he smiled slightly, "You may not believe me, but I am glad you're back."

Gilbert looked at him tiredly, "Some shit's kinda hard to deal with though, or I'm just doing a really bad job at it."

Roderich looked at him, "Oh, I didn't mean that, goodness, now I sound like a complete arsehole."

Gilbert snorted, "You always sound like a complete arsehole, don't worry."

Roderich pouted slightly, "You know, you could really do with some different music in here."

Gilbert laughed, "Trust you to pick up on that, I didn't even notice there was any music playing, anyway, you want anything to drink?"

"I'd love some wine actually, thank you."

Gilbert reached up to get a bottle when he heard a slightly strangled noise escape Roderich's mouth. He turned around, "What?"

"Your hands! What on earth did you do to them?"

Gilbert glanced once again at the bandages, "Er, I got a bit stressed last night, I think I may have gone a bit far," he glanced up, "I thought Antonio told you."

"He didn't mention details; you didn't get in a fight did you?"

"Mein Gott, why does everyone think that? No, I didn't, I just smashed up my wall a bit."

Roderich didn't look impressed, "Gilbert, this is why I think you should just tell people, you're bottling it up, and you end up hurting yourself."

Gilbert poured him a glass of wine before saying angrily, "But telling people is making it fucking worse, it makes me remember," he felt his eyes becoming moist and cursed inwardly, he really didn't want to cry in a public place, "And I really, really just want to forget."

Rooderich looked at him, and Gilbert realised he probably looked quiet upset by now. He felt pressure on one of his damaged hands and realised that Roderich was holding it; he tugged on it slightly and led him outside.

Gilbert followed him and was glad when he saw it had started to rain, so if he did end up crying, the tears would simply mingle with the rain drops falling on his face. Roderich looked in his bag, "Oh Scheiße, I've forgotten my umbrella, I didn't think it was rain."

"Dude, we live in England, how the hell could you not be prepared for rain?"

"Like you are."

"Whatever, I don't mind if my hair gets a little wet."

Roderich sighed and looked t him, "Gilbert, you know you can't just forget everything that happened, it doesn't really sound like something you'll ever forget, you've just got to learn to live with it."

Gilbert snarled at him, "Easy for you to say, you've never had your body fucking used by someone against your will, you've never had someone beat you so badly that fall unconscious,"

"Gilbert, please-"

"You've never been kept awake all night by nightmares that did actually happen once,"

"Gilbert, stop!"

Gilbert shut up, but he could hear his breathing, which had become quite heavy.

Roderich sighed, "I don't pretend to know what you're going through Gilbert," he went quiet as someone walked past, but then carried on, "I'm just trying to help you."

Gilbert nodded, "Right, sorry, I just have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to just 'live with it'"

He looked at Roderich and only now realised how close they were standing, he felt his breath catch in his throat slightly as Roderich stared back at him, then, unexpectedly, leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Gilbert's. He almost pulled away, but he then he felt Roderich's hand on his face, his small, warm hands, so feminine, more like a woman's than a man's, and so unlike Ivan's . Fuck, why did every thought go back to him?

He pulled his face away, leaving Roderich looking slightly shocked. "Don't," he said before he could stop himself, "Please don't."

Roderich looked surprised, whether it was at what he had just done, or the fact that Gilbert had rejected him, he had no idea. He looked at Gilbert and a slight pink colour appeared on his face, "W-well, I'd better be going," he said quietly before turning round and walking off into the pouring rain.

Gilbert watched him for a bit, then ran after him, "Roderich, wait!"

Roderich stopped, and looked behind him uneasily. Gilbert caught up with him, "What the hell was that about?"

"What was what about?"

"Don't pretend you don't know; you kissed me, I thought you were supposed to be freaking engaged."

Roderich's face fell, "I know," he sighed, and turned round completely so he was standing in front of Gilbert again, "You were right," he said flatly, "You have made things a little complicated by coming back," he looked away.

Gilbert frowned, "So now you're saying that you'd rather I _was_ still living with Ivan."

"No, Gilbert, for God's sake, don't twist my words! I'd never want that," he bit his lip before saying; "I love you, okay? I loved you since we were about fifteen, that's the reason Vash dumped me, because I spent more time with you than I did with him. But things changed, you left, and I know now that that wasn't your choice, but I didn't know that then, I thought I had to move on, that I wouldn't see you again, but now you're back, and I don't even know how I feel anymore… I love Elisaveta, don't get me wrong, I didn't propose to her for the hell of it, but I still have feelings for you, that I'm seemingly unable to control…Oh hell, what have I done?"

Gilbert stared back at him blankly; he honestly had no idea what to say to that, he tried to open his mouth to answer, but everything he tried to say caught in his throat, so he simply mimicked Roderich's earlier actions, and ran away until he got home.

* * *

><p>Antonio glanced at the front door as it opened and a soaking wet Gilbert stumbled inside. Antonio went over to him, "Hola, you feeling okay?"<p>

Gilbert nodded, but didn't say anything, he looked slightly pale, and Antonio felt the familiar feeling of worry that he always seemed to have around his friend.

He heard movement behind him as his boyfriend, Lovino, joined him in the hallway, "Who's at the door?" He saw Gilbert and frowned, "Oh, it's you," he said, soundly slightly disgruntled.

Gilbert grinned at him, and seemed to regain his voice, "Good to see you again too," he said sarcastically.

Antonio looked at Gilbert's hair, which was dripping rain water all over the floor, "I'll go get you a towel," he suggested as he ran up the stairs.

* * *

><p>Lovino watched Antonio go then turned to Gilbert, "So, what's this my brother tells me about you living with some freaky, abusive guy?"<p>

Gilbert stared back in disbelief, "That wanker…wait, how the hell does he know?"

Lovino shrugged, "He told me he eavesdropped on you talking with your Dad, can't imagine our Dad would be very impressed."

Gilbert felt a little confused for a second, but then he realised his mistake, "Oh, I thought you meant Feliciano."

Lovino rolled his eyes, "As if, the only thing Feli tells me is how fucking perfect his bastard of a boyfriend is."

"That's my brother you're talking about," Gilbert snapped, but he was glad he had managed to turn the conversation away from Ivan as Antonio descended the stairs, though he didn't feel entirely happy that Lovino and Paolo, both of whom he hardly knew, were aware of where he had been.

Antonio grinned at him, and handed him a towel, which he quickly dried his hair and face off with before dumping it on the side. He followed Antonio and Lovino into the lounge, when Antonio announced, "Ooh, forgot to mention, Annie might be coming round tonight or tomorrow, apparently she's in the area."

Lovino narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Who the fuck is Annie?"

"You know her, don'tcha? My cousin, I'm sure you've met her before."

"Oh," Lovino said, sounding slightly relieved, "Her."

Gilbert smiled, "Haven't seen her for _years_," he said.

"That's 'cause ya buggered off didn'tcha?"

Lovino threw Gilbert a confused look, Gilbert ignored him and shrugged at Antonio, "I guess, it'll be cool to see her again. I, er, I'm gonna make myself a drink, you guys want anything."

Antonio smiled, "We're alright thanks."

Lovino rolled his eyes, "Always speaking for me, typical…but yeah, I'm fine."

Gilbert walked into the kitchen, blocking out Antonio and Lovino's conversation. Al he could think about was what Roderich had said earlier…had he meant that? And if so, what the hell was he going to do now? He was supposed to marrying Elisaveta soon. Gilbert sighed, he had liked Roderich long before he was fifteen, he was interested in him from the day he met him, it was the reason he had wanted to see him again, turning a good boy bad was always fun…but it had grown into more than that over the years, and Gilbert was pretty sure that if Ivan wasn't involved, he would have asked Roderich out years ago.

But Ivan was involved, and since Gilbert had been back home, he had thought Elisaveta was the one he had gotten slightly too close too, gotten unnecessary feelings for…now he was just really confused.

He made himself coffee and walked back into the lounge. Occasionally, Lovino or Antonio would direct some topic of conversation towards him, but he was too spaced out to answer them properly. Eventually, Antonio sighed, "Gil, is something bothering you?"

Gilbert frowned, "Have you ever, er, liked two people at the same time."

Antonio grinned, "Nope, I have Lovi, what more could I want?"

Gilbert noticed Lovino's eyes flicker away slightly, and he looked slightly upset, but he didn't bring it up. He sighed, "I just, I'm confused as fuck, but I should probably just leave it…it's not like I can have either of them anyway." He was talking more to himself, so he wasn't surprised when Antonio looked a little puzzled.

Although he didn't admit everything out loud. More than the fact that his feelings were all messed up, if he did eventually fall for someone who was available, he wasn't really sure whether he could deal with being in a relationship with them, he wasn't sure if it would feel right after living with Ivan for so long, he might feel too trapped, and he was prone to lashing out, what if he turned the relationship into one like he had with Ivan – if indeed that could be called a relationship at all – but where he was the one hurting whoever he was with?

He shuddered slightly; maybe it was best that he just stayed alone after all, but that thought seemed, in all honesty, even less appealing.

**So much FACE family XD I love Franada and USUK, and as I mentioned before, I'm starting to get a bit of a France complex, I started a new fic recently, which centres around him~**

**Sorry for the lack of Lizzy in this chapter, she'll be back next chapter~ And it's my headcannon that America is confused about his sexuality, so he acts homophobic, whereas Canada(which is a much more liberal country) is comfortable with his sexuality~ But that's just me :'D (Although, the USA is becoming more liberal of course, I was very happy when same-sex marriage was legalised in New York this weekend~)**

**As usual, to you incredible people who are still reading this, you mean the absolute world to me, and make my day every single day, thank you, and please do keep reviewing, I love to know what you think! ^.^  
><strong>


	19. Chapter 19: Once

**A/N: I really hope you guys can forgive me for not updating in so long. The first time I wrote this chapter, my sister was just like, "You cannot upload this", it sucked so much XD So I rewrote the whole thing, and my netbook deleted it :I So this is version number 3!**

**I also ended up back in hospital unexpectedly because of my FSGS, so that hasn't helped, and I've been really ill.**

**On a happier note, I've made a tumblr, same name as on here, so I don't have to spam you in my Author's notes, and I may upload extra scenes to there as well~**

**Unlike every other chapter, this one is named after a song by Caleb Kane that just really sums up how Gilbert feels in this fic... I think ayway. *stares at long writing playlist* But then there are quite a few of them XD**

**Enough of me, enjoy!**

The following Saturday started like any other day. Gilbert woke up late morning, desperate for more sleep after another restless night, but he had promised Arthur he would go to work, so he needed to get up and get washed before he left.

He strolled downstairs for coffee and smiled at Antonio as he headed into the kitchen. "Mornin'," he yawned as he switched the kettle on, "How' you sleep?"

"Not bad thanks, you?"

Gilbert shrugged, "Same as usual."

A small frown appeared on Antonio's face, and Gilbert was almost certain that he was going to demand Gilbert go back to bed, because they both knew what the 'usual' was, but instead, his next comment was quite the opposite.

"It's Annie's last day around town, and Lovino and I are taking her out, ya wanna come with?"

Gilbert poured the boiling hot water into a mug as he shook his head, "Nah, I've gotta work today, I don't go half as much as I should and I can't live off my brother's money forever."

"Aw, that's a shame, but I hope ya have fun at work," Antonio grinned as he was leaving the kitchen, presumably to get properly dressed.

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "Fun? Work? Pretty sure those two words aren't supposed to go together...then again, with Mathias there, it's not exactly uneventful"

Francis slouched out of his rom at that moment. "You can say that again," he grumbled as he slid onto one of the stools in the kitchen. He yawned noisily then glared greedily at the mug of coffee Gilbert was holding, "Can you make me some?" He asked hopefully.

Gilbert snorted, "Make it yourself, the kettle's right there."

Francis 'hmph'ed slightly, but stood up and made his own coffee anyhow. Gilbert glanced at the clock on the wall, before gulping down his drink, "I'm probably going into work early-ish today, haven't really got much else to do."

Francis pouted, "You could always spend some time with me!"

Gilbert laughed, "In your dreams mate, see ya later."

Work, for the most part was uneventful (Mathias hadn't turned up that day in the end) and as the evening dragged on, Gilbert decided it was about time to tell Arthur he was heading home, he had been working since about midday, and his feet hurt like hell.

He spotted him near the door, and was about to walk over there when someone walked in. Gilbert felt his heart stop in his chest and his mouth go completely dry as Ivan Braginski walked towards the bar. Gilbert was desperate to run, and he was pretty sure Ivan hadn't noticed him, but to get to the exit, he would have to walk straight past him. Besides, he wasn't sure whether he could even physically make it; his legs had glued themselves to the spot.

He swallowed slightly and looked around to see if there was anyone else at the bar, but the other staff were busy, and Ivan was walking straight towards him. He looked at Ivan, who had spotted him by this point and was smiling disconcertingly at him. Ivan sat down at the bar and raised his eyebrows ever so slightly and Gilbert, who was visibly shaking by now, he tried to cut it out; the stronger, the_ happier_ he looked with Ivan out of his life, the better.

"Gilbert," Ivan said, his voice calm, verging on pleasant, but Gilbert could detect something underneath that, and the look in Ivan's eyes told him that Ivan wasn't feeling calm; he was livid.

Gilbert didn't say anything in response, just stared at him blankly, wishing with all his might that he was dreaming, and extremely thankful that he was standing by the bar right now and, for once, that the room was full of people.

Gilbert stood staring in silence for at least a minute before Ivan slowly lifted his arms so that his elbows rested on the table and he rested his head on his large hands. "A vodka, please," he said in a butter-wouldn't-melt-in-his-mouth voice. Gilbert wanted to hit him, punch him in the face, tell him he could get his fucking vodka elsewhere. But he would lose his job if he did that, it would look like he had started the fight, Ivan would probably make himself out as an innocent victim. Yeah right.

He turned around and reached up to get the vodka, feeling slightly repulsed as he realised that Ivan was probably leering at him.

He got a glass, he would pour Ivan's goddamn drink, but then he was getting out of here pronto, he had to go, he couldn't bear to be here a second longer. Ivan being merely a foot away from him was making him feel sick, and making him remember things he would rather not, things he thought he had buried.

He poured the vodka into the glass, telling himself he needn't worry, Ivan couldn't do anything to him here, there were too many people, he was perfectly safe.

He stared Ivan in the eye as he pushed the drink across the bar, trying to show him that he wasn't scared, despite what he really felt. Ivan held his gaze, the smile never leaving his face and reached across the table, but instead of taking the glass, he grabbed hold of Gilbert's wrist and tugged him forward.

Gilbert felt his heart start beating abnormally fast and his body practically screaming for him to run, but he instead he stood there, frozen, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed, but Ivan had chose his timing well, for everyone seemed to be immersed in their own conversations, not paying any attention to what was happening at the bar.

Gilbert turned back to Ivan, whose smile had turned disturbingly malicious. He leaned forward so his mouth was right next to Gilbert's ear, "I'm not leaving here," he whispered dangerously, "Until you do."

Gilbert tried to tug is hand away, but Ivan tightened his grip. Gilbert snarled at him, "I don't fucking listen to you anymore, okay? And I am _never_ going back to you."

Ivan let go of him but carried on staring at him. Gilbert shook his wrist slightly, damn Ivan was strong. And it occurred to him that as he was pulling away, the smell of alcohol hung around his mouth. Gilbert frowned, if he was already drinking elsewhere, why had he come here? Unless it was because he knew Gilbert was here…which meant that someone else must have told him he would be here. But none of his friends would do that, right? Then again, not all of them knew who Ivan was...but then, how had they seen him?

He ran his hands through his hair, moving away from Ivan slightly. He didn't know what to make of it, but he knew he had to get out of there fast, but if he tried to leave, he was sure Ivan would follow him out, or maybe Natalia was waiting outside, what the hell was he supposed to do?

"You haven't told anyone, have you Gilbert?" Ivan's slow, girlish voice interrupted Gilbert's worried thoughts.

Gilbert glared at him, "No, I haven't," he lied, surprised at how choked he sounded, he blinked a few times, hoping that Ivan hadn't noticed how upset he was.

Ivan smiled, "Good, and you'd better not, it can be our little secret, da?"

Gilbert continued, "Yeah? And why not? I probably have enough proof to get you into prison, so you can't do it to anyone else."

Ivan sighed slightly and amended the way his scarf sat on his neck before looking back up to Gilbert and saying, in a considerably lower voice, "I said, it's our little secret, _da_?" He smiled, "I know people who could easily get me out of a little arrest, and then you'd be - no, I'm sorry - _Ludwig_ might be in for quite a shock."

Gilbert paled, "You dare hurt him."

Ivan laughed, his child-like giggle even more haunting than usual, and so scathing, "Really, Gilbert," he said mockingly, "What on earth could _you_ do to _me_."

Gilbert glared back, but he said nothing, there was nothing to say, Ivan was right, Gilbert had absolutely no power over him, and even if he tried to punch him, he would probably just end up hurting his own hand instead.

Arthur walked up to the bar and Gilbert felt himself physically relax, hopefully Ivan wouldn't talk to him with other people around.

Gilbert smiled at Arthur, forcing himself to look normal, "You mind taking over for a second? Just going to the bathroom."

Arthur shrugged, "Sure."

Gilbert smiled weakly at him again then walked past, carefully slipping Arthur's phone out of the back pocket he always kept it in.

He walked into the bathroom and locked himself in a cubicle; he hoped that mobile phones still worked like he remembered them. He flipped it open and was about to type in a number when he realised he had no idea who to call.

He didn't want to call his dad or Ludwig, he hadn't really spoken to them since he had told them about Ivan, and he still wasn't sure whether he could face them; he couldn't call Antonio, because he was out with Marianne and Lovino; Francis was at work, Mathias was out with Lukas from what he had heard from Arthur and he wasn't really sure he wanted to speak to Roderich after what had happened earlier in the week.

That left Elisaveta. He tried to recall her number, then realised it would probably be in Arthur's phone anyway, he scrolled through his contact list and found the home phone number. He pressed it and just hoped that it would be her that picked up, and not Roderich.

He waited a couple of rings, "Come on," he whispered under his breath, "Pick up."

"Arthur?" Elisaveta finally said, "Hey, everything alright?"

"It's not Arthur," Gilbert said quickly, "It's me, Gilbert, I'm borrowing his phone."

"...Gilbert, are you okay? You sound a bit panicked."

"Doesn't matter, are you free at the moment?"

"I guess," she said uncertainly, "Why? Do you need me?"

"Could you pick me up from work?"

"Gilbert, seriously, is there something wrong? Can't you just walk home?"

"Please," he begged.

"Why?"

He paused for a second, contemplating whether he should tell her or not. He sighed, "Ivan's here."

"WHAT! What the hell is he doing there?"

"I don't know!" Gilbert sobbed, "But he's here, and if I leave alone, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna wind up at his house, and I can't ask Arthur, 'cause he doesn't even know who Ivan is."

"I'm on my way, okay? Just stay where you are, and try not to panic, I'll be there as soon as I can."

He nodded, more to himself, "Yeah, see you...thanks."

He snapped the phone shut and sank down onto the toilet seat, burying his face in his hands. He hoped she would be here in the next couple of minutes, he just wanted to get out of here, he didn't want to be in the same room as Ivan ever again in his life, and he damn well hoped that Ivan wasn't a regular at this bar, otherwise he would have to find somewhere else to work.

He stood up, he needed to get back to work and give Arthur his phone back, otherwise he would start getting suspicious. He opened the door to the cubicle and went to wash his face when he felt a force on the back of head slam him into the sink and then force him back up and slam him against the wall so that his head painfully whacked off it. He let out a cry but Ivan used the hand that wasn't now holding Gilbert's neck against the wall to cover his mouth.

Ivan glared at him, "Why did you leave?" He pulled his hand away from Gilbert's mouth, and Gilbert knew better than to call for help.

Gilbert laughed slightly, but stopped short when he realised he was wasting his already laboured breath, "You've got to be...joking...you know I-" he tried to breathe deeply but Ivan was crushing his neck, he reached up his hands to try and pull Ivan's hand away as he continued, "I fucking...hated it there...I hate you," he spat at him and Ivan used his free hand to slap him. Gilbert grunted slightly and continued to struggle against Ivan's grip, when suddenly he felt him let go and Gilbert fell to the floor in a crumpled heap.

He looked up, surprised, to find Ivan holding his face as blood streamed from his nose, Gilbert reached up to his own face to see how much blood he had lost from his face being whacked into the sink. He pulled his hand away, it was coated in blood. Ah.

He looked up at Ivan again, and then this right, where Elisaveta was fuming, holding what looked like a frying pan in her hands. She glared at Ivan, "You touch Gilbert again, you sick fuck, and it's not only your face I'll mess up."

She turned to Gilbert and hoisted him up, "You okay?"

"What's it look like?"

Ivan smiled maliciously at him, "So you told no one, huh?"

Gilbert's eyes widened slightly, but Elisaveta tugged at his arm, "Let's go."

They went towards the door as Ivan called out, once again in his high-pitched, innocent tone, "Say hi to Toris for me if you see him!"

"Don't listen to him," Elisaveta muttered as she opened the door and stormed once again into the bar.

She headed towards the exit but Gilbert stopped her momentarily, "I, er, I didn't actually tell Arthur that I'd borrowed his phone, I need to get it back to him somehow."

Elisaveta rolled her eyes, "Idiot, just drop it behind the bar; make it look like it fell out of his pocket, or his bag or whatever."

Gilbert went behind the bar and smiled at Arthur, "I'm leaving now, see you."

"Yeah, bye," Arthur replied distractedly, thankfully not noticing his bloodied face as he served a customer. Gilbert quickly, and as subtlely as he could manage (which wasn't actually that subtle) dropped Arthur's phone onto the floor and went back over to Elisaveta, who still looked angry.

She silently walked outside and Gilbert followed her. Once they were outside, she leant against the wall of the pub, "You didn't tell me he was attacking you."

"Well, Sherlock, he wasn't when I called you, was he?"

"Alright, alright, sorry, I just didn't expect to come in to find you slammed up against the wall covered in blood."

"Good damn thing you never came round to afternoon tea with Ivan then," he said dryly.

"Don't say that," she said shakily.

There was a pause, then Gilbert smiled, "I love how you just waltz into the men's bathroom like it's nothing."

She rolled her eyes, "It's not the first time, although usually I'm not wearing a dress when I do it."

There was another short pause before Elisaveta took out her phone. Gilbert frowned, "What are you doing?"

"Calling the police, what else would I be doing?"

"Don't!" Gilbert said quickly.

Elisaveta sighed, "Gilbert, he had you locked up for eight years, and I've just seen with my own eyes him attacking you, I'm pretty certain that calling the police is a good idea." She lifted the phone to her ear and Gilbert snatched t away and clicked the 'end call' button.

"What the hell, Gilbert? Don't you want him locked up? I've seen what he's done to you, and it's not pretty...he can't just get away with that."

"Gee, thanks Elisaveta, I already had him" he thrust his arm in the direction of the pub, "Telling me how shit I looked all the time, I don't need it from you as well."

She brought her hands to her face, "I didn't mean like that, I'm sorry…but seriously, why are you protecting him?" She dropped her hands, "Now is seriously not a good time to tell me you've got Stockholm syndrome or some shit."

Gilbert shook his head, "I hate his guts, trust me, I just…don't want to get the police involved."

Elisaveta frowned, Gilbert could tell that she didn't believe a word he was saying, but she sighed and gave in, "Fine," she held out her hand, "But give me my phone back."

Gilbert hesitated and Elisaveta smiled at him, seemingly starting to lose her initial anger, "I won't call the police, I promise."

He held onto it for a couple of seconds longer, but then handed it over cautiously. Elisaveta dropped it into her bag, "Right, let's go, I'm parked just here, and we can go back to my place if you want."

Gilbert shrugged, "Whatever."

He sat in the car and stared firmly out the window, "I thought I was gonna end up going back," he admitted.

Elisaveta put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He flinched slightly and she quickly pulled it away, "That's not going to happen, you hear me? And even if it did, we'd notice you were missing, but this time, everyone would have a pretty good clue where you were."

"Not everyone, I still haven't told Francis and Antonio."

"I'm surprised, you guys seem pretty close."

He sighed, "Maybe they're better off not knowing though, I hate worrying everyone, I seem to be making everyone really miserable."

Elisaveta smiled, "I'm not gonna lie, what happened to you…that upsets me sure, but I'm happy too, happy you're back, and happy you're safe now."

Gilbert laughed, "See, that's what I thought, until Ivan pranced into Arthur's pub…seems I'm not as safe as I hoped. You know what? Maybe I should just go back to Ivan." Elisaveta stared at him in horror, "What? It's the truth though, isn't it? I wouldn't be in the way of you and Roderich; Antonio and Francis wouldn't have to fucking babysit me anymore, and my dad, and Ludwig, and everyone else, can just stop worrying so goddamn much."

Elisaveta abruptly stopped the car and turned to Gilbert, the angry look once again apparent on her face and tears threatening to leave her eyes, "You know what, Gilbert? I really want to slap you right now, but I'm not going to, because I know you've been through too much fucking pain already."

Gilbert sighed, "You don't have to treat me like I'm some sort of special case-"

"I don't care, that's not even the point. The point is that there is no way you're ever going back, do you have any idea how that would make us feel?"

Gilbert looked uncomfortably down at his hands resting in his lap, "That's not what I- Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just don't know what the hell else to do."

"Try to rebuild your life, maybe?"

"What do you think I've been doing? It's not fucking working! I feel worse every day."

Elisaveta sighed, "That's because you're hiding from so many people, keeping so many lies, if you just came clean to people, it'd be far easier to cope."

"Yeah, well, that's easier said than done, and it's not made me feel any better as of yet."

"At least tell Francis and Antonio, they really worry about you, Antonio seems down at work, and that's really rare for him, they want to know you're okay."

He frowned, "No, they're the last people I want to tell right now, I just want everything to be normal between us, I want it to be like it used to, back when we were at school, when we thought we were invincible," a sad smile appeared on his face, "But that's not gonna happen is it?" He rested his head back, "Too much has changed."

He could see her and Roderich's house approaching as Elisaveta smiled sadly back at him, "It might not be the same, but you guys can still be friends, you just need to be honest with each other, that's how any relationship works, you've just got to be honest."

As she stopped the car and got out, Gilbert watched her, wondering if Roderich had been honest with her about kissing him earlier that week, he doubted it, but he really didn't want to tell Elisaveta. Admittedly, it was mostly because he didn't want her hating him, not Roderich, but he liked to think it was for a more noble idea; to keep her and Roderich together, however much he secretly wanted to be a part of it.

He stood out the car and slammed the door shut, following Elisaveta up to the house when a thought suddenly struck him, "Is Roderich in?"

She shook her head, "He should be home soon though, he's just at a rehearsal."

As she opened the door Gilbert tapped her on the shoulder, she turned around, her long hair bouncing on her shoulders. "Can I, er, use your bathroom?"

She laughed slightly, "You don't have to ask, you know where it is."

He nodded and an upstairs, running the tap to wash his face and assessing himself in the mirror. His nose didn't look broken, which was good, but it had been bleeding badly, and he had a mark on his forehead where it had hit the sink. He reached his hand to the back of his head, where a bump seemed to have formed.

He sighed and glanced at his bruised wrist and neck, it could have been worse, he supposed, if Elisaveta hadn't turned up, he smiled, he would have to thank her later, but right now he felt disgusting, and seriously sick. He lifted the toilet seat up and leant over it, but although his stomach was churning and he was shaking all over, his body just wouldn't get rid of anything. Frustrated, he stuck his fingers down the back of his throat.

He heard Elisaveta run upstairs behind him and slam open the door, her face contorted slightly, "You feeling sick?"

He was tempted to make a sarcastic remark, but she looked genuinely worried, so he just smiled, "I'm alright, I just," he looked at the wall, "I hate seeing him, he makes me feel weak, I just want to run when I see him, I want someone to just take me away, tell me it's gonna be alright, that it'll never happen again," he sunk onto the floor, "But at this rate it's going to isn't it?" He looked desperately up at Elisaveta, "Isn't it?"

She shook her head, looking like she was about to cry, dropped to the floor in front of him and pulled him gently towards her, "You were all for going back in the car…but then you were just trying to be strong weren't you?" She started rubbing small circles in his back and he couldn't help thinking suddenly of Yekaterina, he tried to push that thought away, as quickly as it came, otherwise he knew he would feel even worse.

He also pushed the thought away that someone was touching him, that they were going to hurt him, this was Elisaveta for god's sake, but then again, he had seen her smash Ivan in the face with a fucking frying pan. Paranoid, he quickly checked his surroundings to see if there was anything she could cause serious damage with. When all he could see were shampoo bottles and towels, he relaxed into her arms, actually thankful that she had dared to touch him, he really needed this right now; someone who would hold him, someone who make him feel loved, after so long of feeling wanted, yes, but for all the wrong reasons, but never loved.

They sat there for a few minutes; Gilbert just listened to her heartbeat, which had steadied since she had come in. He eventually pulled away and smiled slightly at her, "I'll clean myself up a bit more, ya think Roderich will noticed if I steal one of his shirts? 'Cause mine's covered in blood."

She laughed, "Probably not, he's a total airhead. I'll go downstairs and make you some coffee, unless you want something stronger."

He shook his head, "I tend not to drink anything stronger than beer…I've seen what can happen when people get drunk, not really my cup of tea."

Elisaveta paled slightly and nodded, "Okay," she said quietly, "Coffee it is," she stood up and started heading downstairs. Gilbert got up once he had watched her back disappear completely. He washed his face and flushed the toilet before heading into Roderich and Elisaveta's bedroom and flicking through the wardrobe before he found something that wasn't completely snobbish. He pulled out a simple white shirt and threw it on over his top, just so he looked slightly more presentable.

He was about to go downstairs when he heard the door open.

"Elisaveta? Are you in? I'm home!"

Gilbert froze; Roderich was home, what the hell was he supposed to say to him? 'Oh hi, so how come you kissed me the other day? And what the hell was the whole 'I love you' thing about?', yeah, great idea right in front of his fiancée.

He sat down at the top of the stairs and listened to their conversation.

"Hi Roderich," he heard Elisaveta say, she sounded a little shaky, "How was your rehearsal?"

"Excellent, thank you, did you do anything this evening?"

"Gilbert called actually."

Gilbert quietly moved a little down the stairs so that he could see Roderich's face, which had gone very white, "Oh, did he now? W-well, anything he told you…it wasn't true, okay? He was making it up."

He couldn't see Elisaveta's face properly, but he was pretty sure she must have looked puzzled, "Um, actually, it was true, I saw it."

Roderich went even paler, "Oh, is that so? Well, I guess I should explain."

Gilbert descended the stairs before it got any more awkward. Roderich looked up at the sound of footsteps and his face fell. Gilbert grinned at him, "You do realise I didn't tell her about you, it was something that happened at work today."

Roderich ran a hand slowly through his hair, "Right well, um, what about me?"

Gilbert snarled at him, "You know what…You know the really funny thing? You fiancee was going on about trust and honesty earlier, it's obvious she really trusts you, so maybe you should tell her the truth," he smiled at Elisaveta, "I'd better go so you two can talk without my added awkwardness, see you soon," he turned reluctantly to Roderich and said without even thinking, "You too."

As Gilbert opened the front door he heard Elisaveta say to Roderich, "What the hell is he talking about?" and then Roderich's utter silence.

He walked down the street, hoping that he hadn't just ruined their relationship, but more than that, he was hoping he wouldn't run into Ivan on the way home. He would take a longer route, that wouldn't take him past the pub. He checked behind him to see if he was being followed, and when he looked back ahead, the world seemed to spin slightly. He tried to shake it off, but it seemed to get worse. Was that lamppost supposed to be upside down, and how close was that car? He stumbled further away from the road, from the car that looked like it was about to hit him and fell against a wall, trying his best to keep walking.

He tried to push of the wall, but he ended up losing balance and flinging himself back into the road, and the last thing he could remember was a blinding light from some car headlights, and then total blackness.

**I'm realy looking forward to writing the next chapter, but I have less than three weeks to make my Austria cosplay, so that comes first XD **

**Please do review, I love getting them, to know what you guys think, and to get to know you a little better too :) I love talking to my readers~**

**EDIT: For those of you that don't know what Stockholm Syndrome is, it's when a prisoner becomes emotionally attached to their captor.  
><strong>


	20. Chapter 20: Lies

**A/N:**** If you are still reading this fanfiction, then I would like to thank you for being so wonderful and patient. The last month I've been really busy, with sewing(I cosplayed Austria recently, and I had a Hungary and met a Prussia, I'm sure you can imagine how happy I was :) ) and just dealing with my illness(And playing a bit of Fire Emblem, I admit). And I've had to rewrite this chapter. I do hope you forgive me.**

**Anyway, here's chapter 20! Thank you ever so much to the wonderful people who reviewed last chapter, you've really encouraged me to carry on with this :)**

**EDIT: Sorry if there are a couple of mistakes in this chapter. My beta thought it'd be funny not to read the whole**** thing.**_  
><em>

_Beep_

"What if Lovino really was telling the truth?"

_Beep_

"Well, we still shouldn't say anyzing until 'e wakes up."

_Beep_

"So whadda we do if they ask us about it?"

_Beep_

"…I don't know, we could try and change the subject, or tell them we don't have permission to talk about it."

"Or you could bloomin' well shut up and let me sleep," Gilbert said groggily as he blinked open his eyes. The room he was in was bright, and it took him a second to adjust. When he did, he couldn't recognise his surroundings, there was a curtain pulled around the small area that he was lying in, which he had neverIf Y seen before. He glanced downwards, and saw that he was in a bed he had never seen before either, and there was a weird clip attached to his finger.

He glanced up again to make eye contact with his friends, who were sitting next to him, half-smiles, half-worried looks on their tired faces. He smiled at them, "Am I in the hospital?"

Francis nodded, "Do you remember what 'appened?"

Gilbert frowned, and looked down again, trying to wrack his memories; he had just left Roderich and Elisaveta's house, but then everything had gone kind of weird, and there had been a car…

He snapped his head sharply upwards again, "Did I get hit by a car? 'Cause I don't remember hitting anything…but I felt kind of shit, so maybe I was unconscious by the time it hit me."

Antonio laughed slightly, "Don't worry mate, the car didn't hit you, I'd know, I was driving it…but you gave us quite a scare just running into the road like that, what were ya thinking?"

Gilbert shook his head, still feeling slightly dizzy, "I dunno, I just…my body wasn't really listening to my head."

Antonio opened his mouth to respond when a young nurse pushed aside one of the curtains slightly and walked in. She smiled kindly at Gilbert, "How are you feeling?"

"Er, not that great actually."

The nurse smiled again, "Naturally, but should be alright soon, we'll keep you in tonight for observation, but if everything goes well, you should be allowed out tomorrow," she turned to Antonio and Francis, "Could I have a word with you two outside for a minute?"

Francis threw a worried glance over at Antonio, who returned it before standing up and giving Gilbert a reassuring smile before following the nurse.

Gilbert watched them go, feeling slightly alone as they disappeared. He tried to recall everything that had happened before he fainted, he had seen Ivan again, maybe that had something to do with it, but he hadn't lost that much blood, so he was pretty sure it wasn't that. He sighed, at any rate, being in the hospital meant that he was safe, away from Ivan. He doubted Ivan even knew he was here.

He glanced at the curtain, what the hell were they talking about that he wasn't allowed to hear? A sudden realisation dawned on him and he looked down at what he was wearing, and that it was not Roderich's shirt, or the top he had worn underneath it. He cursed quietly; they must have seen what he looked like…and what if they had contacted the police?

"…_and then you'd be - no, I'm sorry - _Ludwig _might be in for quite a shock."_

Gilbert froze and pushed himself up. Ludwig. If they had contacted the police, he had to make sure Ludwig was alright. He flung his legs over the side of the bed and ripped off the weird thing on his finger before stumbling over to the curtain.

* * *

><p>The nurse smiled politely at them and Antonio felt his mind racing, trying to decide exactly what he was going to say if she asked what he knew she was going to.<p>

"So, you two are Gilbert's house mates correct?"

They both nodded.

"And you're quite close?"

They nodded again, but Antonio added, "But only recently, we haven't been in contact for quite a few years."

"Okay, well if this happened recently you may be able to help, otherwise I'm sure you could point us in the direction of people who could help. Does," she looked down at the little file she was holding, "Gilbert get into many fights?"

Francis raised his eyebrows at Antonio, "Not zat we know of, he spends most of 'is time at home or work, so I doubt it."

The nurse nodded, "Okay, and what is his relationship with his family like?"

Antonio sighed, "What's this about?"

The nurse opened her mouth, paused for a second, seemingly contemplating whether she was allowed to tell them or not, then said reluctantly, "We found a lot of wounds on Mr. Beilschmidt, and a number of them look like they were done with a weapon, we need to know if you know anything about-"

At that moment, Gilbert flung open the curtain and stared wide eyed at the nurse, "My brother," he said quickly, "Ludwig, is he alright?"

The nurse looked quite stunned, but got over her shock quickly, "Gilbert, you need to stay lying down, or you might faint again."

As if on cue, Gilbert's knees buckled from underneath him and he fell forwards. Francis and Antonio were quick to catch him and hoist him back onto the bed. He pushed off their hands and looked up at them, "Ludwig," he repeated, "Where's Ludwig?"

"I dunno, he came to check that you were alright last night, but I haven't seen him today."

"Wait…how long have I been out?"

"Not that long, it's midday now, so over 12 hours, but it's not like you've been unconscious for days or anything."

Gilbert seemed to relax slightly at that, "Okay, but still, can you call Ludwig, check he's alright?"

Antonio smiled, "Sure, but then Francis and I want to talk to you." He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts until he reached Ludwig.

After a few rings, he heard, "Antonio?"

"Yeah, hi, Gilbert wanted me to call you."

"Oh, he's awake?" Ludiwg sounded slightly relieved, "How is he?"

"A little faint, and seemingly kinda worried, but otherwise okay."

"Worried? About what?"

"Well, he's been panicking, seemed to think something had happened to ya."

"No, I'm fine, just trying to enjoy my weekend in peace…which isn't as easy as it sounds when you live with Feliciano."

Antonio laughed, "I know what you mean. Anyway, thanks, see ya soon." He snapped his phone shut and looked at Gilbert, "See? Nothing to worry about, he's fine," Antonio turned to the nurse, "D'ya mind giving us a few minutes alone?"

The nurse tutted, "Fine, I'll go tend to another patient, but I'll be back shortly and I'd appreciate you letting me do my job then," and with that, she walked slightly clumsily away.

Gilbert finally lay back down properly on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and closing his eyes briefly. Antonio looked pointedly at Francis, who sighed and tapped Gilbert's arm lightly, "Gilbert? Why did you zink something 'ad 'appened to Ludwig."

"No reason," Gilbert mumbled as he turned slightly, trying to get back to sleep.

"Gilbert?" Antonio prompted, "I did say we wanted to talk to you…"

Gilbert opened his eyes, "Fine, what is it?"

Antonio stared uncomfortably at the floor, he wasn't really sure if now was the best time to bring it up, but the sooner the better, right? "Gil," he said slowly, "The reason you wanted me to check on your brother…was it something to do with Ivan Braginski?"

* * *

><p>Gilbert felt all feeling leave his body. "How do you know that name?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.<p>

"I saw it on your back, remember, a few weeks ago."

Oh thank God. "Right, well, no, it's got nothing to do with him."

Antonio looked disbelieving, "Really? Because I've heard otherwise," he glanced up at Francis, who nodded at him, "Lovino told me Ivan Braginski was the guy you've been living with for the past eight years, and that it wasn't exactly a healthy relationship."

Gilbert wanted to punch Lovino in the face; why the hell would he tell Antonio something like that without asking him first? He seriously hoped that Lovino hadn't gone into detail, because Francis and Antonio knowing about Ivan was the last thing he needed right now.

"It's not true is it?" Antonio asked hopefully, "Right? I mean the nurse said you had some wounds, but they could have been anything, right?" He was becoming desperate, and Gilbert was feeling increasingly bad, but he had no idea what to say. Did he tell them the truth, and risk losing them? Or lie to make them feel better?

Fuck lying; he was sick of fucking lying all the time. He looked Antonio in the eye, "How much did Lovino tell you?"

"Not much…only what he'd heard from his brother."

Gilbert sighed and felt his arms instinctively fold his chest in defence as he said, "Well, everything he said is probably true then, because his brother got it directly from me…kind of."

Antonio nodded, "So you've been living with an abusive guy for almost a decade, and you didn't think it was worth mentioning?"

Gilbert scowled, "I'm sorry, okay? It's not really something I want to fucking talk about."

"But Gil, we're your best friends; you could have just told us where you'd been, instead of lying to our faces!"

"I didn't lie! I told you I was living with someone, and that it had gone kinda wrong, that's the truth, just kind of abridged."

"Exactly! Was it so hard to tell us exactly what happened? We could have helped you Gil."

"Well, I didn't know that did I? I thought you might-" he went silent.

"Thought we might what?"

"I thought you might ditch me," Gilbert admitted, "I thought you might avoid me, I thought you might think I was weak, 'cause I let another guy hurt me, it's not exactly something that's usually taken seriously, is it? Only women are taken seriously when it comes to abuse, I thought you guys might just think I was whining about nothing…and I didn't want all your fucking sympathy, I just wanted things to be me normal between us, you know? Like back in high school."

He finished and looked at his two friends, Francis looked slightly irritated, but Antonio was livid. "Ya know what, Gilbert?" He said, "It's bad enough that you haven't told us about this, but the fact that you didn't is because you thought that we would mock you and abandon you? That's just plain insulting. Seriously. Do we really seem that cold? We're your friends, goddamnit Gilbert, your best friends, and we would do bloody anything for you. We're not going to judge you because some arsehole has been treating you like shit for eight years," he stood up and walked slightly away, trying to control his breathing slightly, "Seriously, Gil, I'm offended that you have such a low opinion of us."

Gilbert snarled, "You know what, Antonio? Why don't you have a guy rape and abuse you every fucking day of your life for eight years, then you come back and tell me what a high fucking opinion you have of people."

Antonio's face fell; he opened his mouth to say something, then spun on his heel and stormed out. Gilbert watched him go, feeling like a complete idiot. He turned to Francis, "He hates me, doesn't he?"

Francis smiled sadly, "'e doesn't 'ate you Gilbert, e's simply upset…we don't like to see you 'urt like this. Antonio doesn't seem to know 'ow to deal with it."

Gilbert and Francis sat in silence for a while; so many questions left unsaid between them, but neither quite sure how to start. They were both thankful when Antonio returned, he looked calmer, but his face was red and his voice choked as he said, "Why did you never even call? You could have at least stayed in contact."

"I've told you before, I couldn't, Ivan wouldn't let me."

Antonio looked confused, "Why didn't you just wait until he was out the house?"

Gilbert shook his head, "It's not as simple as that, when he wasn't there, one of his sisters were, and Natalia was as bad as him, and although Yekaterina would have probably let me, if Ivan found out, he'd…he'd," Gilbert felt his throat tighten, "He'd probably hurt Ludwig, or Roderich."

Antonio looked, if possible, even more confused than he had before, "How the hell do those two tie into this?"

"Ivan knew how close I was to them, so he threatened to hurt them unless I did everything he asked, and I knew what he was capable of, so I kinda just did it," he saw Francis's face form a small frown and smiled, "If you're wondering why he didn't threaten you two, it's 'cause he didn't really know about you. He saw me a couple of times at school, but it tended to be when I wasn't in school, and I spent a lot of my free time when I was younger with Roderich."

"Wait," Antonio said apprehensively, "At school? How long have you known this guy?"

"You remember when we won that football match near Christmas? With Mathias and Arthur?" Both of his friends nodded, "Well, that's when I first met him, but then I just thought he was a bit of a weirdo…turns out he's a manipulative bastard with an unhealthy obsession with my body. Aren't I lucky?" He grimaced and drew his arms across his chest again, "I missed you guys, I swear, and if Ivan wasn't threatening Ludwig and Roderich, I'd have called you every fucking day."

Antonio and Francis exchanged worried glances and looked back at Gilbert. "Where does he live?" Antonio asked.

"Er, a shortish walk away from Ludwig's house."

There was a dead silence which Francis broke, "You're kidding."

"No, what the hell would I gain from lying to you now?"

"So let me get this straight," Antonio said quietly, "You were still living in this town the whole time."

He nodded, "But you wouldn't have seen me, Ivan didn't even let me leave the fucking house, it's a miracle I haven't got rickets or something."

"Dude, that's insane."

"You're telling me? I had to fucking live through it," he rested his head back, "Sometimes, I try to tell myself it didn't happen, but I'm covered with the evidence that it did, and I still remember how it felt…" he winced slightly, "So that doesn't go so well."

Antonio sat down on the edge of Gilbert's bed, seemingly at loss of what to say now. Gilbert tentatively sat up and felt Antonio wrap his arms around him. It was comforting, yet he still felt himself trembling and in the back of his mind, he could hear a voice telling him to run, that he was going to get hurt. He heard Antonio mumble something, but couldn't quite catch it. "Hmm, whatcha say?"

Antonio pulled away slightly, "I said, you're shaking."

Gilbert looked down, feeling ashamed, and slightly exposed, "Sorry," he said, "I can't help it…when people touch me, my brain won't stop associating touch with pain, no matter how hard I try to tell myself that they won't hurt me. 'Cause I don't even know how true that is."

Antonio and Francis frowned, "Gil, we're not gonna hurt you, especially not like he did…and I'm sorry if I've ever said anything to make you feel uncomfortable, but then, if you'd told us before, that wouldn't have happened."

Gilbert nodded as the young nurse walked back in, "I'm sorry."

The nurse smiled at Gilbert, "Feeling any better?"

"A little," he admitted, and he knew it had more to with the fact that he had been able to talk to Antonio and Francis than resting in the hospital.

"That's good," she replied. Gilbert tuned out slightly as she babbled on about God knows what, he was surprised at how easy it was becoming to talk about, not like when he first told Roderich. But despite being easier to talk about, he still felt awful and as he heard the nurse mention again the fact that he could leave the hospital tomorrow, he realised that he really didn't want to. Staying in the hospital meant safety, it meant no Ivan. He was terrified to leave again, there didn't seem to be anywhere he could go to escape him.

He started listening to the nurse again, just in time to as she asked, "We found a number of wounds on your body Gilbert, we were wondering if you could tell us what they were from?"

Gilbert smiled, making sure he looked much more confident than he felt, "It's nothing, I used to get into a lot of fights, don't do it anymore though."

The nurse nodded slowly, she didn't look like she believed him much, "We think you blacked out due to stress, you seem to be under a lot of pressure, are you sure there's nothing more to those wounds?"

Gilbert felt Antonio and Francis's piercing eyes on him, begging him to say the truth, but he ignored them. "I, er, just got out of a pretty difficult relationship, that's probably what the stress is about, but it's completely finished now," he lied; Ivan didn't seem finished with him at all, "I'm pretty sure I'll be alright."

The nurse nodded again, seeming slightly more convinced, "Okay, well we're still keeping you overnight tonight, and we'll run a few checks every few hours," she wheeled over what Gilbert recognised as a blood pressure machine. The nurse wrapped the cuff around his upper on as she babbled on, "We did an ECG whilst you were unconscious, so you won't need another one of them, but we may take a bit of blood, just to see if there's anything more to it than stress, but I wouldn't worry yourself, I don't think it's anything."

Gilbert just nodded and bit his lip slightly as the cuff tightened around his arm. Eventually, it loosened at the nurse glanced at the screen, "Okay, your blood pressure's still a bit low, but hopefully that should sort itself out. Just try not to stand up again."

The nurse started walking out, then turned round and smiled again, "I'll be back in a few hours, make sure you get some rest."

Gilbert looked again at his friends, "I'm sorry," he repeated, "I'm sorry for not telling you, for not trusting you."

Antonio grinned, "It's alright, just don't keep things like that from us in future, okay?"

"Okay…that means I have a heck of a lot to tell you though."

"Hmm?"

"Well, for starters, I ran into Ivan yesterday, at Arthur's pub."

Antonio and Francis's eyes grew wide and the former blurted, "What happened? He didn't do anything, did he?"

Gilbert shook his head, "Not really, he smashed my face a bit, but Elisaveta found me before it got too bad…But I'm not sure I really wanna go back to work there."

Francis sighed and gave him a sympathetic look, Gilbert wasn't sure if he was grateful for that, or if he wanted to tell him to take his fucking sympathy elsewhere, "Ze problem is, Gilbert, you need to. You 'aven't even got any A levels, and I'm not saying that's your fault," Francis said uncomfortably, "But you're going to 'ave trouble finding work elsewhere."

"I know, but" Gilbert yawned loudly, "I'm sure there's somewhere," he said tiredly, feeling his eyes drooping slightly as Francis blurred and then disappeared completely.

_Gilbert groaned as he flopped against the table, his arms sprawled out in front of him, staring disdainfully at the RE project they had been assigned over the half-term break._

"_What the shit is the 'problem of suffering' anyway?" he complained, looking at Francis as if expecting him to have all the answers._

_Francis sighed and hit him over the head with the pen he was holding, "I 'ave told you a million times now. Come one, we need to get this finished so we can do something more interesting."_

_Antonio threw down his own pen and smiled, "Ya know, we could always go out for a bit and finish this later."_

"_Or not at all," Gilbert said, "And that's my final decision, and since I'm awesome, we have to go by it."_

_He started to get up but Francis tutted, "And get another detention? Please. I 'ave better things to do with my life."_

"_But detention is pretty fun when we have it together," Gilbert pointed out._

"_Still, my parents won't be very impressed."_

_Gilbert rolled his eyes, "You _tell _them? Idiot. Now come on, I really don't care about whatever this omnipotence stuff is, I just wanna get outside and play football or something."_

_Antonio and Gilbert looked expectantly at Francis, who finally sighed and gave in, "Fine! As you wish!" He said dramatically, "But we are finishing this later whether you like it or not; I'm not letting you two leave all the work to me again."_

_Gilbert swore he wouldn't before running outside into the cool autumn air. Francis lived in a rural area just outside of the town, surrounded by vast expanses of land._

_Antonio, Gilbert and Francis were never really sure if where they ventured was private property or not._

_They never really cared._

_Gilbert ran on ahead, his two best friends lingering slightly behind._

"_I love this," he shouted behind him, before stopping momentarily and leaning against a lone tree in an unkempt field._

_Antonio caught up with him and eyed him quizzically, "Love what? Running?"_

"_Nah, just getting away from everything," he walked out into the field and flung his arms out as if displaying it, "Don't you think it feels like we're the only ones in the world when it's like this? No parents to tell us off, no teachers to give us shitty RE projects, no stuck-up arseholes to tell us what to do…don't you wish it was always like this?"_

_Antonio smiled and walked up to him. Francis who had finally reached them, followed close behind. The former whacked Gilbert on the arm, "You're such a sap when you want to be, ya know."_

"_Whatever, it's true. And I'm not a sap, it's called being awesome."_

"'_e 'as a point though," Francis interjected, walking back over to the large oak tree and sitting underneath it, "Ze world would be an amazing place if it was just us."_

"_Precisely!" Gilbert declared, before he and Antonio joined Francis underneath the tree._

_They stayed in silence there for a while, soaking up each other's company, watching as the afternoon sun began to fade into the horizon._

_Gilbert was brought out of his reverie by the faint sound of scratching to his right._

_He glanced at Antonio and rolled his eyes, "You're drawing again? You're such a weirdo. I swear, if you're drawing the fucking sunset, I don't even know you anymore."_

_Antonio laughed lightly, shaking his head as he did so, "Shaddap, I'm not a girl; I'm drawing us."_

_Gilbert leaned over his shoulder, curious, but Antonio pulled the sketch away. Gilbert frowned, "Lemme see!"_

"_No!" Antonio insisted defensively, "It's not finished."_

_Gilbert reached forward and quickly snatched the small sketchbook out of his friend's hands and glanced at the picture, which showed him, Francis and Antonio, but their features seemed distorted and out of place. _

_He looked at Antonio, "What the hell is this?"_

"_It's cubism, dumbshit."_

"_Huh, cool. Hey Fran- oh"_

_Francis was leaning against the trunk of the tree his hands draped across his stomach and his eyes closed. Gilbert turned back to Antonio, "Francis is asleep," he said quietly, then a mischievous smile speared on his face, "Should we leave him here?"_

_Antonio looked disbelievingly back at him, "Oh yeah? And what the hell are his parents gonna say when we turn up at the door without him?"_

"_Gilbert pouted, "You're no fun, " but he started shaking Francis awake anyway, "Oi! Francis!"_

_Francis didn't stir._

_Gilbert rolled his eyes and leaned down to his blond friend's ear and shouted, "Oi! Francis! I banged your sister!"_

_Francis's eyes finally flickered open and he glared at Gilbert, "I 'eard you ze first time…and my sister is eleven, like I'd believe zat."_

_Gilbert grinned, "It got your attention though, come on, we need to get back to yours."_

_Antonio sighed, "Can't we just stay outside? I like it here."_

_Gilbert smiled triumphantly, "See? I'm not the only one who's a total sap."_

"_I 'ave a tent," Francis suggested before Antonio was able to reply, "We could go back and eat, then camp outside for the night."_

"_Awesome," Gilbert said, pulling himself up and stretching dramatically. He started walking back towards the house, but with every step he took, the ground seemed to shake slightly. He was becoming disorientated, and before he knew it he had fallen down a hole he hadn't even realised was there._

_He panicked; he couldn't even see his hand when he thrust it directly in front of his face._

_But he could hear a voice._

_A voice that definitely shouldn't be so familiar._

_He shuddered, but then he started to hear other voices, he thought they were saying his name, but he wasn't even sure where the sound was coming from._

_The voices got louder and he realised that they were coming from directly above him. He glanced upwards, where a small light had appeared and was slowly drawing nearer._

_He called out, frightened, desperate for the people on the ground above to notice him, he begged them to help him._

_The light grew nearer and Gilbert could make out Francis and Antonio leaning over the edge of his hole, but they were no longer the teenage boys they had been mere minutes ago, but grown men, His family were there too, and they looked older as well._

_He reached his hand up, in the vain hope that one of them might grab it, but he couldn't reach the outside world, where he could now also see Roderich and Elisaveta peering down at him, trapped in the narrow hole._

_The light drew slightly nearer, but then seemed to halt. Gilbert tried to reach up again, but the people calling for him were simply too far away. He tried jumping, but he still couldn't reach. He tried climbing up the side, but it was too slippy and he just fell down._

_He seemed to do this forever, desperate to reach the outside world where everyone else he knew was._

_Everyone but the owner of that voice._

_He glanced up again, and he could see that people were starting to move away._

"_No!" He shouted up at them, becoming increasingly desperate, "Please don't leave me! Please!"_

_He felt hands pushing down on his shoulders and felt is whole body screaming to get out._

His eyes shot open and met with Antonio and Francis's, both filled with worry as they tried to push him back down onto his hospital bed.

"Don't leave," he begged them, still not entirely sure whether he was dreaming or not.

Antonio smiled sadly down at him before saying, "We won't, Gil, we're not going anywhere."

**This chapter ended up very different to how I planned it to be, so I apologise if it's not what you expected.**

**Also, I've started to write the scenes that don't quite fit into the fic, but work into the story, I've almost finished a tomato family which I'll upload to my tumblr along with other scenes I'll write, including an untarnished version of the memory in this chapter. (I'm genderbentunicorn there as well.)**

**Please read and review! :)**


	21. Chapter 21: Hope

**A/N: Wow, this is really late, so I imagine a lot of people have given up on it. But to those of you who are _still_ sticking with me, no matter how slow this story is, no matter how long it takes me to update: I thank you.**

**I've struggled a great deal with this chapter, it hasn't come out at all how I wanted it, but I hope you still enjoy it.**

Gilbert tugged at the band around his wrist, but it refused to rip. He sighed, disgruntled, before dropping his hand to his side and continuing to walk through the hospital.

He was slightly irritated that they had made him leave so early, but he was apparently well enough to leave, he muttered angrily to himself as he turned into the scarcely populated lobby and stopped short when he noticed Roderich standing near to the doorway.

Gilbert frowned and walked over to him, "What are _you_ doing here?" he asked.

Roderich jumped slightly, clearly so lost in his own little world that he had failed to notice Gilbert going over to him. "Oh, well, um," Roderich rolled his eyes, seemingly at his own incompetence, and said, "I came to pick you up, idiot. It's not like you know your way home from here."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows as he followed Roderich, who had started to walk out of the hospital, "I have been in hospital before, you know."

"I'm aware," Roderich sighed, "Your wrist was in a cast for quite while," he frowned and his eyes flickered to Gilbert before once again focusing on the road ahead, "But that would have been the Children's Hospital."

Gilbert coughed as they passed a group of smokers standing a short distance from the hospital, before replying, "Huh, thought it looked kind of different."

Roderich tutted slightly, but didn't say anything. They carried on walking, past buildings that Gilbert vaguely recognised from his childhood, but most of which he couldn't really remember what purpose they served. They turned down a road, Gilbert spotted a small clothes shop that he had been to a couple of times as a teenager with Antonio and Francis. He smiled slightly to himself and only half registered that Roderich had turned around and started heading back up the road they had just come down. When Gilbert realised that he was no longer following anyone, he ran to catch up with him, "Er, what are you doing?"

"I went the wrong way," Roderich admitted quietly.

Gilbert laughed as he fell into step beside his old friend, "Where exactly are we going?"

"A car park nearby," Roderich explained, "Elisaveta's waiting with the car."

"Why didn't you just use the hospital carpark?"

Roderich shrugged, "It's more expensive."

They walked in silence for about a minute before they both started speaking at once.

"How long were you-"

"Look, I should probably-"

Gilbert laughed again and a small smile appeared on Roderich's face. "Awkward," Gilbert said, "You go first, save the best 'til last"

The smile disappeared from Roderich's face, "I just wanted to apologise…for, um, kissing you."

Gilbert looked down at his feet, where for some reason he was wearing a pair of Antonio's shoes, a sort of half-smile on his face, "You talk to Elisaveta?"

"Yes, she got pretty angry with me, not because I'd gone behind her back…she was mad because I'd forced you into that situation, which is exactly the kind of thing that you're trying to get away from. So I'm sorry."

Gilbert was surprised, he had to admit, he hadn't really thought of it like that, probably because he had been so shocked that it had even happened.

Roderich continued, "I can understand if you don't want to be around me anymore, and-"

"Dude, chill. You're overreacting a bit," Gilbert smiled, but he wasn't really sure how convincing it was, "I'm fine, okay? Just don't go surprise kissing people in future, yeah?"

Roderich smiled, "Okay…what were going to say anyway?"

"Oh, I was just gonna ask you how long you were standing in the hospital foyer."

"Only about half an hour, I think," Roderich replied as they entered a multi-story car park. Gilbert spotted what he recognised as Elisaveta's car, and ran ahead of Roderich over to it. He rapped his knuckles against the glass of the passenger seat window. Elisaveta smiled and waved at him as he pulled himself into the back.

Roderich sat in the passenger seat, and started to talk to Elisaveta. Gilbert wasn't really registering what they were talking to them, he simply watched them; how they would casually make contact as they spoke, how Elisaveta seemed to glow with happiness every time Roderich looked at her, he watched as they continued to talk, seemingly having so much to talk about, because they could tell each other anything and he felt a pain in his chest as he realised how badly he wanted to have that kind of connection with someone, but how he never could, because he was so terrified of it at the same time.

The car pulled to stop and Gilbert glanced out the window.

At Arthur's pub.

His heart froze and he snapped his head back to the front of the car, "What are we doing here?" He asked, panicked.

Elisaveta stepped out the car as she answered, "Gilbert, I know you're scared," she opened the door to the back of the car and held out her hand, "But if you don't face your fears, they'll grow, and it'll only get worse. If we don't take you back here, there's no way you'll do it alone, I know that. We're trying to help, Gilbert, I promise."

Gilbert shook his head, unable to say anything. He couldn't go back in there, not with the danger of Ivan returning, and what if he was in there now? He shook his head again and choked, "I _can't_, Liz, you don't understand. I can't go back there, it reminds me…reminds me of everything that happened when I had to live with him, you have no idea what that's like."

She smiled sadly back at him, "I know he hurt you, and I know I'm never going to be able to understand what that feels like, but you've got to trust me, this'll do you good."

Gilbert glanced at the pub again, which looked so much bigger and so much darker than the last time he was there, he glanced at Roderich who nodded at him, prompting him to listen to Elisaveta. He sighed, swallowed his fear and shakily stepped out of the car.

Elisaveta smiled and took his hand. He felt his chest warm slightly and he immediately felt safer, "I swear to you," she said, "If that bastard is in there, I will fucking pummel him to death."

Roderich coughed pointedly and said, "Or we could just call the police."

Elisaveta pulled a disgusted face, "Jail is too good for that motherfucker."

They got to the door and Gilbert felt his whole body stop, refusing to move any closer, to actually venture inside. Elisaveta turned and smiled encouragingly at him.

"It'll be fine," Roderich assured him, "Honestly, you'll realise you're making a fuss over nothing."

Gilbert urged himself to move, slowly, one foot at a time until he pushed open the door and stepped inside. Elisaveta lead him over to the bar, where Arthur was just finishing a conversation with an old customer. He turned to Gilbert, "Ah! Gilbert, I heard you ended up in hospital, are you feeling all right?"

Gilbert tried to nod, but his body wasn't listening to him, and all he seemed able to do was nervously look around, checking each and every customers face, just in case Ivan, or someone else associated with him was there. Eventually, his gaze returned to Arthur, but by now he had completely forgotten what he had asked.

Arthur said a quick hello to Roderich and Elisaveta before turning back to Gilbert, a worried expression on his face, "Gilbert, is there something up?"

Gilbert looked at Elisaveta, who's face fell. Gilbert realised he must look awful, and to be honest he didn't really care. He glanced at the men's bathroom, almost daring Ivan to appear. He looked back at Elisaveta and felt tears forming in his eyes, "I can't stay here," he said quietly.

"Gilbert, nothing is happening, you're fine, see?"

He shook his head, she didn't understand, he felt strangled, he could almost _feel_ Ivan there, and he didn't like it. He didn't like it one little bit.

He glanced at the door, then at Arthur, who looked thoroughly confused. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm and jumped, almost certain that it was Ivan, but then he realised the hands were too small and he turned to see Roderich smiling at him, it was just a small smile, Roderich never smiled that much, "He can't hurt you, I promise."

Gilbert stared back at Roderich, he wanted to tell him to keep his hand there forever, he had come to love just being touched, the feeling of human contact that didn't hurt him, that didn't make him want to die. But he had no idea how to explain that to Roderich, so he just smiled back, before bursting into tears and falling against Roderich's shoulder.

"I can't stay here," he sobbed, "Please just let me go."

Roderich sighed, but he didn't sound angry, "Gilbert, you need to pull yourself together, you're fine."

For a short time the only sound that filled Gilberts ears were the murmuring sounds of people speaking in the background, some song he didn't know playing and the sound of his own tears. Then Roderich spoke up, "You know Arthur, the music you play in here is dreadful."

Arthur, who sounded half-irritated and half-confused at Gilbert's actions replied, "Well if it bothers you so much, there's a piano in the corner of the room, you can play your own bloody music."

Gilbert lifted his head up, feeling slightly embarrassed to see what Roderich's response would be.

He 'hmph'ed slightly before saying, "Very well," and walking over to the piano.

Arthur raised his (rather large) eyebrows; he obviously hadn't expected Roderich to actually listen. Then he simply shrugged and turned off the music that was currently playing.

Gilbert smiled to himself as Roderich struck the first key on the piano. He always wished he had learnt to play piano along side violin, but he didn't think he would ever be able to play it as well as Roderich did anyway.

As he continued to play, people around the pub went much quieter, and looked over to him. Obviously, the piano wasn't put to much use when there were customers around. But it wasn't out of tune, so it must have been used a little. Perhaps Arthur played it sometimes in private.

Gilbert tried to work out the piece, but couldn't for the life of him work out what was being played; it could have been an improvisation for all he knew, or a piece Roderich had composed himself previously. Whatever it was, it sounded wonderful and Gilbert could tell the rest of the pub had the same feeling.

He glanced over at Elisaveta, who was beaming. She caught his gaze and held out her hand. "Let's dance," she suggested.

Gilbert laughed, all previous thoughts of Ivan completely forgotten, "I don't dance, I don't know _how_ to dance."

Elisaveta shrugged, "I'll teach you."

Gilbert gave Elisaveta a disbelieving look, but when she didn't back down he gave in and took her left hand with his right, before placing his other hand tentatively on her waist.

They started to dance, Elisaveta was laughing, and Gilbert was pretty sure he looked completely stupid. He had no idea what he was doing, and was extremely thankful that Elisaveta was as good as leading.

He spotted Arthur, who seemed to have a sad, rather lonely smile on his face. The sound of other people standing up reached his ears, as they joined him and Elisaveta, there seemed to be a buzz in the air, a sort of collectiveness that Gilbert hadn't felt in a long time. As more people joined them, he felt his heart rate speed up as thoughts of Ivan resurfaced. If he walked into the pub now, Gilbert could hardly get away very easily.

Elisaveta sensed his discomfort and squeezed his shoulder lightly, "You're safe," she said softly, "We're here."

He opened his mouth, to tell her that it didn't change anything; that he still felt sick; that he wanted to go; that he wasn't sure she could save him a second time. But as he looked at her smiling face, and he caught Roderich's eyes, which were full of jealousy, worry and something Gilbert couldn't quite place his finger on, he just couldn't bring himself to say anything. Besides, maybe he really was safe.

He relaxed his shoulders and continued to dance with Elisaveta, as Roderich continued to play his still unrecognisable piece, he could feel his head starting to spin, and the people around him, who had seemed so clear just a few seconds ago, had suddenly gone out of focus. He looked worriedly at Elisaveta, who suddenly seemed so far away. He started laughing, nothing was funny, nothing at all, he just felt like laughing, and now he had started he couldn't stop.

He heard his name being called out, but he couldn't place whose voice it was, or where it was coming from, and he didn't really care. In fact, he was feeling rather-

He opened his eyes as he felt cool water dripping down his face. Four worried faces were leaning over him, Arthur, who was holding a wet cloth to his forehead; Elisaveta, who was holding Roderich's hand and looking rather distressed; Roderich was smiling warily at him, but looked almost as pale as Elisaveta, and Mathias…Oh, Gilbert hadn't even realised Mathias had been there.

He blinked up at them all, "Did I faint again?"

Arthur sighed, "Yes, and you managed to cause quite a scene out of it, you scared half of the customers to death, one woman tried to call an ambulance, she thought you were dying, I swear if you've scared away any customers…" he sighed and shook his head, "I'm sorry, how are you feeling?"

He grimaced, "Not great," he looked around the pub instinctively, checking for Ivan, when he didn't see him, he spoke again, "How long was I out this time?"

Roderich glanced at his watch, before saying, "Not too long, it's only been a few minutes."

He nodded and pulled himself up slightly, indicating to the wet cloth on his forward, "I'm not sure how much that's helping."

Arthur pulled it off, "Well, I thought it might…" He looked uncomfortable away, not able to look Gilbert in the eye as he continued to speak, "Francis told me what happened…I'm sorry."

Gilbert smiled shakily at him, "Don't be, I'm alright now, see?"

Arthur raised one eyebrow, "Sure you are, hence why you were freaking out when you first came in here, and why you fainted. Do you want a drink?"

Gilbert shook his head as a very confused Mathias asked, "What are you guys on about?"

"Nothing," Gilbert replied as he pulled himself up, clinging to the side of the bar to steady himself, "I need to go home, I can't stay here," he looked up at Roderich and Elisaveta, almost expecting them to ask him to stay again, but they both nodded and Roderich offered himself as support to help Gilbert walk out to the car, through the rain that had started to pour down since they had gone inside the pub.

"I'm sorry," Elisaveta said, as she turned the key in the ignition, "I thought it might help you."

Gilbert nodded, but he wasn't really in the mood for conversation any more. On the way back home, he didn't even glance in the front of the car, which he had so obsessively scrutinised earlier, he simply stared blankly out the window and at the rain that dripped down the window, cursing himself for not being able to function in any sort of situation.

He felt his surroundings draw to a halt and was going to unbuckle his seatbelt when Elisaveta turned around to look at him, "I know you're not going to want to go out much after seeing Ivan at Arthur's pub…but I'm meeting an old friend later this week for coffee, you can join us if you want, getting out might do you some good."

Gilbert nodded, "I'll think about it," he muttered as he stepped out of the car.

He glanced at the house and realised with a small jolt that there were two people standing outside of it. For a second he didn't recognise them, because the rain was falling so heavy now that it was nigh on impossible to see more than a few metres ahead, and the rain had also messed up their hair and made it look darker.

But as he walked over towards them, he realised it was only Francis and Antonio, who had clearly been waiting for a considerable amount of time for him, huddled together in their raincoats in the rain. They smiled at him as he drew near, water dripping off their faces.

He smiled back, "You know," he said, hearing his voice waver, "You could've used an umbrella."

Francis walked forward and held out his arms. Gilbert didn't need any sort of prompt; he didn't need Francis to say anything at all, he just walked right over and practically stumbled into Francis's embrace. He rested his head on the side of Francis's face and as he felt Antonio's hand on his back he started crying again.

He cried for everything that had happened when he was younger, for being trapped with Ivan for eight years; he cried for all the time he had lost with Roderich, and his two friends who were now comforting him, and for all the friends he could have made if life had been so kind; he cried because he didn't know where his life was going, or how it was going to get there.

And standing in the miserable British weather clinging to the two people in the world who he knew would always be there for him, he cried because, for the first time, his friends knew why.

It was quite a while before Gilbert finally calmed down, and the three friends entered their house. Antonio and Francis told Gilbert to wait in the kitchen, while they went to fetch towels so they could all dry off after being absolutely drenched by the rain.

He fell onto one of the stools in the kitchen but jumped right up again when he realised that a young woman was sitting on one of the other stools. She glanced up at him, a somewhat bored expression on her face.

He stared down at her for a few seconds, then realising it was probably just some girl that Francis took a fancy to, he sat down again. There was a very awkward silence as the girl turned back to the book she must have been reading before Gilbert came in.

_Why the hell were Antonio and Francis taking so long?_

"Er…Hi," he said, making a rather lame attempt at conversation.

She looked up at him, scrutinising him over her glasses, "'ello," she said, rather monotonously, before looking down at your book.

Gilbert smiled at her accent, "Ah, you're French, no wonder Francis is screwing you."

The woman's face flushed bright red in an instant as she snapped her book shut and finally turned her attention to Gilbert, "I _beg _your pardon?" She said angrily, clearly affronted at what he had said.

Gilbert swore internally, "Er, right, misunderstanding, who are you eactly?"

She frowned, "Gilbert, we've met before, I'm Emilie…I'm Francis's sister. I'm also lesbian. So I am most _certainly _not screwing him."

Gilbert laughed, and Emilie looked, if possible, even more affronted. When he calmed down slightly, he apologised, "I haven't seen you in a long time," he added, "You looked pretty different last time I saw you."

Emilie looked like she was about to make some sort of remark back, but noisy chatter from the doorway interrupted her as Francis walked in, laughing with another girl (who Gilbert had a feeling he had seen before, but couldn't work out where from), as he rubbed his blond hair with a small towel. Antonio was walking behind, holding a couple more towels, chatting to Lovino and grinning at Gilbert.

Gilbert smiled weakly back as Antonio handed him a rather fluffy blue towel, "Sorry we took so long, bumped into Vicky and Lovi upstairs and got talking," he smiled at Emilie, "Hey, Em, sorry we were waiting for so long outside."

Emilie smiled vaguely at Antonio as she pulled a cigarette out of her purse, "It's no problem, I was busy with my book anyway."

Gilbert frowned as she drew the cigarette up to her mouth and lit it with a pretty expensive-looking lighter. Although cigarette smoke was so very different to the horrendous smell of burning flesh, Gilbert still found the smell uncomfortable. Outside of the hospital it had certainly been stronger, but he was in an open area, so it was somewhat less terrifying. In a cramped space, a kitchen no less, the smell was all he could really concentrate on and it was making him feel nauseous. He felt his back prickling slightly and shifted uncomfortably, but no one seemed to notice.

The so-called 'Vicky' had finally finished talking to Francis about goodness-knows-what and smiled at Gilbert, "Hey," she said, placing a slim hand on one hip, "I'm Victoria, Emilie's partner, it's nice to finally meet you! Francis has told me all about you."

He looked between her and Emilie; it was rather shocking how different they were. Whilst Emilie was pale and blonde, with her hair neatly done into a plait, Victoria was dark-skinned, with long dark hair, pulled loosely up into two pigtails. Whilst Emilie had been rather hostile, and clearly untrusting, Victoria was very friendly and seemed like good fun. And whilst the poised Emilie continued to smoke, Gilbert couldn't imagine Victoria, no that sounded too formal, _Vicky _ever even touching a cigarette.

He smiled back at her, "Well, I dread to think what he's told you, but hey."

Antonio glanced around the kitchen, "Who's up for some coffee then? Because I'm still freezing."

Gilbert nodded, "Yeah, I wouldn't mind some actually." Everyone else murmured their agreement.

Antonio grinned, "Okay, you guys go into the lounge, it's probably warmer there, and I'll sort out drinks."

There were quite a few more people than the house was used to, so getting everyone comfortably sitting in the living room proved rather difficult and eventually, Gilbert found himself sitting to the left of Emilie, which, he had to admit, he wasn't all too pleased with; she seemed terribly stuck-up.

As he fell on the sofa next to her, he noticed her wince slightly and immediately pull out her book to read. He frowned slightly, _why was she so unsociable?_

Antonio walked into the room with a precariously laden tray as he somehow managed to turn the television on with just his foot, but by the looks of things, it would only act as background noise. He placed the tray down on the coffee table and then sat down next to Lovino, putting his arm round him as the younger man tried to squirm out of his reach and already starting conversation about something that Gilbert knew nothing about.

Gilbert quietly watched his friends for a bit, he wasn't really in the mood for talking, and they all seemed to get along so well with each other anyway. He turned his attention instead to Emilie, who at first appeared to be reading a rather large book, but the more he watched her, the more he noticed that she wasn't paying much attention to the book at all. She hadn't turned a page in about ten minutes and her eyes kept darting upwards.

Gilbert assumed she was watching Vicky, probably to see if Francis started flirting with her but when he followed her gaze he noticed it landed on Antonio. He frowned again and continued to watch her, noticing that whenever Lovino started telling Antonio to get off him, her hands would tighten on her book and her gaze would linger slightly. She was acting rather how he imagined he had when he wasn't sure about how consensual their relationship was.

Then it dawned on him.

He smiled sadly to himself then leaned over to Emilie, "You too, huh?"

She jumped and whipped her head round so that her plait when flying into Gilbert's face. After a bit of apologising and a few 'it's fine's, a puzzled look appeared on Emilie's face, "Me too, what?"

"You, er," Gilbert tried to think exactly how he could phrase it without sounding ridiculously insensitive, "I saw you watching Antonio and Lovino," he said, indicating to them, "You seemed somewhat uncomfortable…I just wondered whether you'd had a bad experience in a relationship."

Emilie looked at him blankly for a few seconds before pulling out a cigarette and slowly lighting it. She took a drag of her cigarette before finally speaking, "You're sharp," she said simply, and then smiled slightly for the first time that day, "I seem to have misjudged you, I apologise. But yes, when I was at university, I started dating a girl who wasn't exactly lovely, but I was young, and foolish, and I didn't really know how to get out of it." She sighed and took another drag on her cigarette, looking at Gilbert expectantly.

He leaned back slightly in his seat, ad was about to say something when he heard Antonio calling his name, "Oh my God, Gilbert, do you remember that time we convinced a teacher that there was a fire in the art department, and they punched the fire alarm on, and we got the rest of the afternoon off?" He didn't pause to let Gilbert answer as he continued to talk to the group, "So this kid had…" Gilbert tuned out of what he was saying, and turned back to Emilie.

"Not much to say really, ended up being pseudo-kidnapped by a Russian guy who was probably about twice my age and had this sick twisted idea that we were in a relationship."

Emilie raised her eyebrows slightly as smoke exhaled from her mouth. Gilbert stared disgustedly at the cigarette, "Why the hell do you smoke? Doesn't the smell make you feel sick?"

She glanced down at her cigarette, surprised, "No, it calms me down, I always overthink things, and even though it's been years since I met the girl who abused me, she's not someone who's easy to forget. I always get stressed, and smoking helps me relax."

"Huh, fair enough. I just can't stand the smell, bad memories attached to it."

Emilie nodded understandingly and put her cigarette out on the tray that still sat on the coffee table.

"How long were you with her?" Gilbert asked, slightly worried that he was asking too much.

Emilie sighed, "About two years," she said, "It was all right at first, we had a lot of fun, but then she stated demanding things from me that I wasn't comfortable with, and she would start 'urting me. She would always apologise the next day, and she promised she wouldn't do it again. I believed her, of course, but she never stopped. But I kept believing her, and I told myself it would get better and it took me what felt like forever before I finally left her," she shuddered slightly, "Thank goodness."

Her eyes were drawn back to the group again as she finished talking, but this time her eyes really did go to Vicky. "Was it hard," Gilbert asked, "Getting into a relationship again? I mean, you must have been pretty scared after the first time."

Emilie turned her attention back to him and nodded, "It was difficult, sure, but Vicky's very different…and she's always so 'appy, but she's understanding too, she knows I need space sometimes," she smiled affectionately, looking at Vicky again, "She saved me."

Gilbert couldn't help feeling a little hope in what Emilie was saying, even if he couldn't completely forget, or get over, what had happened, that didn't mean he wouldn't be able to cope with a proper relationship in the future. "I'm still terrified, that I won't be able to cope, or that I'll end up hurting them," he admitted, "And the only people I'm really interested in are in a relationship with each other, so that kind of sucks."

They didn't talk much for the rest of the evening, Gilbert knew she probably didn't want to talk in detail about what had happened to her, and he was pleased that she seemed to realise the same about him. But there was definitely something different about the air between them now, the judgement, and hostility had disappeared and been replaced with a mutual understanding, and respect.

Later in the night, when Victoria and Emilie were going home, Emilie hugged Gilbert and whispered quietly in his ear, "You'll find someone, believe me. Good luck."

And it took everything Gilbert had not to break down crying for the umpteenth time that day.

**I have a huge thing for MonacoxSeychelles...They might be popping up again in a later chapter.**

**Please review! Whether you're a first-time reviewer on this fic, or you review every chapter, I just love to know what you think.**


	22. Chapter 22: Always

**A/N: Hello to the lovely people still reading this fanfiction. This AN may be a little long, but I feel like I owe you an apology**. **Over the last few months, my illness took a turn for the worse, my adrenal glands have stopped working, and I became depressed. That, along with schoolwork has somehwat altered my prorities, so I just haven't had the time, or the confidence to update. I kind of felt that my writing wasn't very good, and that the whole plot line is too cliche, but I'll work on that and try to change it with future fanfiction too.  
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**If the quality of my writing has truly gotten terrible, please accept my deepest apologies, and also a thank you to the readers who have checked up on me and made sure that I am okay.**

**This chapter will make slightly more sense if you've read the extra scenes, but it's not needed :)  
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**Anyway I hope you still enjoy it.  
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Gilbert watched, carefully, as the small clock in his room changed to read 11:00, but he didn't even stir as it did so. He had originally planned to get up at eight o'clock to actually do something productive with his day; but surely that was too early to be getting up? So the designated time had changed to nine o'clock. He had been completely awake by that point, but couldn't be bothered to actually get up. And so it continued, a new target would be set, and a new target would be neglected.

In fact, that was basically how Gilbert's whole week had been so far, and he had had ended up doing nothing productive whatsoever. That wasn't much point trying to go to work; that would only make things worse, and judging by the lack of annoyed phone calls from Arthur, he wasn't the only one who thought so. He hadn't been out with his friends either; Antonio had been at work all week, and Gilbert had the distinct impression that Francis was trying to avoid him.

The clock changed once more and Gilbert was about to just go back to sleep when he heard the gentle creak of his door. He glanced upwards, and was surprised to see Francis leaning against the door frame, a small smile upon his face.

"Coffee?" He asked, holding up one of two steaming mugs in his hands.

Gilbert hesitated for a second, more sleep sounded very tempting right now, but somehow, he couldn't help thinking that actually talking to someone might do him some good. So he smiled, and nodded, "Sure."

Francis frowned as he navigated his way through the dirty clothes on the floor that Gilbert hadn't bothered to put away. He tutted as he sat down next to his friend, "Zis room needs a good clean up," he huffed, still frowning.

Gilbert took the coffee mug from him, but made no remark about the state of his room; he was pretty sure that wasn't what Francis had come up to talk about.

There was an extraordinary awkward silence for about a minute until Gilbert sighed and said as bluntly as he could, "You've been avoiding me."

Francis drummed his fingers against the mug in his lap, shuffling slightly as he thought of an answer. Gilbert was mildly astounded that he hadn't just denied it straight away. Francis frown deepened as he started to speak, "I…didn't really mean to avoid you."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Yeah, right, you've barely said a thing to me since Sunday."

"Zat is because I didn't really know what to say," he sighed, "It kind of feels like a bit of a repeat for me I guess…When I found out about what had been happening to my sister, I kept trying to talk to 'er about it; and I zink I only made it worse for 'er because I kept bringing it up. I wanted to be zere for 'er…but zat didn't work so well. I didn't really want to do the same to you; I didn't want to keep bringing up bad memories and making you more upset."

Gilbert looked down and swirled his coffee absent-mindedly, "So, er, it's not because you're uncomfortable around me or anything?"

"No," Francis smiled slightly, "Nothing like zat."

"Well, maybe next time you start blanking me, tell me why first, yeah? I kinda got a bit worried…I kind of need you to be there for me," he mumbled the last bit, embarrassed.

Francis laughed slightly, "You big sap, of course I am still 'ere for you. You could've talked to me, you know?"

Gilbert shrugged "You didn't really seem like you wanted to ta-"

He stopped midsentence, startled, as he heard the doorbell ring.

Francis jumped slightly, "Who ze 'ell is zat?"

"Antonio?" Gilbert suggested, "Oh wait, no…he's at work."

"And 'e 'as a key, you idiot."

Francis stood up and started running downstairs. Gilbert stretched, put his mug down, and stood up' only to fall right back down again after getting too dizzy. Annoyed, he stood up again, but slower, and made his way downstairs, where Francis was chatting with someone concealed behind the door.

"Who is it?" Gilbert asked as reached the bottom.

A head popped round the door and Elisaveta's face broke into a warm smile, "Hey!"

Gilbert felt a weird feeling in his stomach as he smiled back, "Hey," he replied, "How come you're not at work?"

She shrugged, "I only had lessons this morning…well, I should have a class this afternoon, but they're on a trip, so I'm free for the rest of the day."

"Well, come in!" Francis exclaimed, "Make yourself at 'ome, I shall make more coffee. We shouldn't leave a beautiful woman waiting at ze door."

Elisaveta laughed and shook her head, "I've got somewhere to be actually; I'm meeting up with, er, an old…friend," she looked at Gilbert, "I mentioned it to you on Sunday, remember? I was wondering if you wanted to come with me."

"Huh. I kinda forgot actually."

Elisaveta tutted teasingly, "I can tell, you're not really wearing much, and you haven't called me at all."

Gilbert looked down at himself, he had completely neglected the fact that he had forgotten to put clothes on. Thankfully, he had been sleeping in a t-shirt and boxers, but the feeling in his stomach turned icy cold when he realised his legs were bare, and the marks on them glaringly obvious. Embarrassed, he muttered "Yeah," and ran back upstairs. He threw on some clean clothes and attempted to flatten his hair slightly before heading back down, "Okay, I'm good to go now."

Elisaveta reached her hand out towards his neck, he shied away and she drew it back sharply. "Sorry," she said, "Your collar was just a bit wonky."

Gilbert felt, if possible, even more embarrassed than before, "Oh…right," he reached up towards his collar and adjusted it. "Better?" he asked.

"Better," she replied, smiling, "Okay, we'll be off then. Bye, Francis! Do something useful with your day."

Francis laughed, "I will do, you two 'ave fun!"

The door closed and Gilbert felt a light chill wash over him, from the crisp May air. He glanced at Elisaveta, "Er, Liz?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't you think you'll be needing a coat?"

She glanced at what she was wearing, "Nah, this jumper's pretty warm, I'll be fine," she said as she pulled open her car door, "You gonna be okay in the car? Antonio mentioned you've had issues with it before."

Gilbert scowled, "I'll be fine," he said as he pulled himself into the passenger seat, hesitating before pulling the seatbelt over him. He still hated that feeling of being tied down, trapped, but he was safe with Elisaveta; he had to keep that in mind, then the trip would be bearable.

Elisaveta sat down next to him, and started the engine. "So, um, where are we actually going to meet this guy?" Gilbert asked, in the vain hope of starting a conversation that would take his mind of the claustrophobic conditions.

"Oh, I've arranged to meet him by the coast, it's only a ten or fifteen minute drive away."

Gilbert grinned, "I have lived in this town my whole life, y'know. I know how far away we are from the beach."

Elisaveta stuck her tongue out at him, "Whatever, that's where we're going, there's lots of nice little cafes along there."

"Jesus Christ woman, you and your goddamn cafes."

"I have a name, asshole, don't call me 'woman'."

"Well, don't call me 'asshole' then," he retorted, grinning.

Elisaveta pulled a hand away from the wheel to playfully hit him on the arm, only to look slightly mortified a second afterwards.

Gilbert sighed, "Liz, it's fine, I kind of need to get used to people doing shit like that to me anyway."

They sat in silence the rest of the journey, and Gilbert was thoroughly relieved when Elisaveta backed into a parking space in a reasonably empty parking lot. He pulled the seatbelt off and stepped back into the chilly air, "Not many people around," he said, slightly uneasily.

"That's 'cause it's a weekday, moron; most people are at work, or school. And it's also kind of grey so people just want to stay inside or go shopping…but I'm sure there'll be a bunch of sweet little old couples hanging around, and probably some young mums, so we're not completely alone."

"Great," Gilbert said sarcastically, shoving his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside Elisaveta, "Screaming children. Just what I need."

Elisaveta playfully hit him again, but she seemed overly careful about it, "Shush you, I bet you were ridiculously noisy when you were that young…in fact, you were loud enough when you were six."

They reached the walk way that ran along the side the beach and Gilbert promptly jumped onto the small wall that separated it from the sand. Elisaveta laughed, "You still act like a little kid, you know?"

"Hey! No I don't! I just haven't done this in years," he smiled, "Brings back good memories."

"You used come here a lot, huh?"

"Yeah, my Dad would bring us here to walk the dogs, and in the summer we'd hang out on the beach…that usually ended with me flicking sand into Ludwig's eyes or some shit though."

Elisaveta laughed again, but it was drowned out by the deep sound of roaring thunder. Gilbert and Elisaveta glanced up in unison, at the grey clouds rolling across it. "It better not fucking rain," Elisaveta grumbled, as she pulled her arms across her chest.

Gilbert shrugged, "I don't mind, I actually wore a coat…anyway, where are we meeting this guy?"

"Er, it's at a café quite a bit further along, a friend of mine works there."

"So why didn't we park in the car park at the other end?" Gilbert asked, exasperated, "Surely that'd make more sense."

"Yeah, but that one's more expensive."

Gilbert repressed a snort, "You must be joking…or not. Roderich is really rubbing off on you; that's something he'd do."

"You two really were pretty close, weren't you?"

Gilbert waited for another loud rumblr of thunder to pass before he answered, "Yeah, I guess we were. I'd have totally asked him out, but I wasn't sure whether he was really interested in comp school boys."

Elisaveta smiled, "Ah, closer than I thought it seems…" she pulled her sleeves over her hands, and started playing with her hair.

Gilbert frowned, "Is something up?"

"No, no…it's just, you never actually properly answered me last time I asked, but, do you prefer guys then? 'Cause I always got that impression when we were younger, and you clearly liked Roderich as more than a friend so…"

Gilbert grinned slyly, "And why exactly does that worry you so much? I know you've got nothing against gay guys."

Elisaveta threw him a deadly look, "I hope you're not trying to imply anything, Gilbert."

He held his hands up, "What would I be implying, exactly? I'm just curious."

She sighed, "It doesn't bother me, I was just wondering…and you still haven't answered."

The thunder roared once more and Gilbert looked up in time to get a raindrop fall right into his eye. He drew his head down and blinked it out, feeling hundreds more raindrops falling onto the back of his head.

"So much for no rain, huh?" He shouted over the rhythmitic, but extremely loud sound of thousands of raindrops hitting the floor, "You should've brought a coat!"

"Fuck off!" Elisaveta shouted back, grinning as she sped up her pace to get to some sort of cover soon.

"Liz!" Gilbert called, as he jumped off the wall.

She stopped, and turned around, her hair flattened and raindrops falling off the end of her nose. Gilbert ran over to her, and started pulling his coat off. Elisaveta gasped, "No, I'm fine! Keep it on, you'll make yourself ill!"

Gilbert shook his head as he wrapped it round her, "I'm used to being cold and wet. Believe me; I've got through much worse weather than this in even less clothes."

She opened her mouth to say something, then seemed to think better of it and closed it again, pulling Gilberts coat snugly around her and putting the hood over her already ruined hair.

She looked up at Gilbert, and he felt the same weird feeling in his stomach as he had done earlier. Elisaveta put her hands on his shoulders and pulled herself up to his height, kissing him lightly on the cheek, "Thank you," she said, "You're really not of much as a dick as you used to be."

He smiled, finding it hard not to notice that she hadn't really moved and was about an inch away from his face, "I can still be a bit of a dick sometimes."

She still hadn't moved, and Gilbert could feel her warm breath against his face, startling different to the cold rain pouring down his back. Without thinking, he leaned forward, until his lips met hers. She looked surprised for a fleeting moment, but then responded, pulling him closer by wrapping her arms around his neck, and letting out a small moan. They stayed like for what seemed like hours, but was more likely just a few seconds, until they pulled away to breath.

"That answer your question?" Gilbert asked, grinning slightly.

Elisaveta looked confused, "What question?"

"You asked me if I was gay," he said, still having to raise his voice over the seeming everlasting rain, "I'm pretty sure that's a no."

She laughed as she reclaimed her arms, "Okay! Anyway, come on! We need to meet Sadiq!"

They started walking again, "Why did you kiss me?" He asked, smiling, "I thought you were engaged."

"_You _kissed _me_!" She exclaimed.

"Yeah, but you didn't object."

"I know! That's 'cause I like you Gilbert, okay? Like, a lot," She made a frustrated sound and looked briefly up at the dull sky, "Don't get me wrong, I love Roderich, I truly do,"

"You sound like Roderich," Gilbert mused.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

"…Okay, but anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, you just…I don't really know, I just care about you a lot; more than an engaged woman should about another man."

Gilbert looked down at his feet, a feeling that was a mixture between guilt and a selfish happiness engulfing him. He desperately wanted to be a part of Roderich and Elisaveta's lives; they made him feel safe, and appreciated, and he didn't want that taken away. But they were getting married next month, and he seemed to be slowly tearing them apart; which had never been his intention.

"We're here," Elisaveta said, pulling down the hood of Gilbert's coat as she stepped into a warm, low-lit café.

Elisaveta glanced round for a couple of seconds, before her head stopped on a young man with a mask, sitting in the corner. He looked slightly worried, and kept glancing at his watch. Elisaveta waved her slightly at Gilbert, indicating that he should follow her before manoeuvring herself around tables to get to her friend.

"Hi!" She said to him, as she fell down on the chair opposite him. The man started, but then grinned.

"Hey," he reached out his hand to shake hers and then turned to Gilbert, "And you must be her fiancé."

Gilbert blushed slightly and laughed, "No, I'm just a…friend."

"Ah, right, sorry, my mistake, I'm Sadiq, by the way." The man's eyes lingered on him for a second, Gilbert couldn't see his eyes, so he had no idea what he was thinking, but his mouth had turned into a small frown. But the face disappeared, he was back to his big beaming smile, and had re-focused his attention on Elisaveta.

Gilbert pulled a chair out and sat down; he felt like a bit of an outsider, but that wasn't what was bugging him the most. The longer he stared at Sadiq, the more familiar he seemed. And the voice too, he was sure he had heard it before…

He sat there for what must have been at least half an hour, just staring at Sadiq. He hadn't caught a word of the conversation, and he wasn't sure whether Sadiq knew that he was staring or not. If so, he was probably somewhat freaked out.

Eventually, he sat up straighter and interrupted, "Er, Sadiq, was it? Do I know you?"

Sadiq stopped midsentence and looked at him, he hesitated, "Um, no, I don't think so."

Gilbert frowned, "Are you sure, 'cause I'm pretty sure we've met before." Gilbert was pretty sure he was making Sadiq uncomfortable with his insistence, but the more he said, the more certain he became that this was not their first encounter.

Sadiq frowned, "We, um, haven't really met, but, er, you may have seen me…but it was a long time ago."

Gilbert noticed Elisaveta tense next to him as Sadiq continued, "Did you ever know someone called Ms. Arlovskaya?"

Gilbert raised his eyebrows, "Natalia? What about her?"

"Right, Natalia, I met her a number of years ago…our gang, wait, Hu-Elisaveta has told you about that hasn't she?"

Gilbert nodded.

"Good, well our gang used to get our weapons through the Braginski family, and she's apparently close to Ivan Braginski, who's basically the head of all the arms dealing operations around here; so I was meeting with her to talk…and you were there, I think it was you anyway, you were just sitting there, at the stop of the stairs…you didn't look so good."

Gilbert stared dumbstruck at him, and then turned angrily to Elisaveta, "Did you know about this?"

"About you meeting Sadiq? No!"

"No not about that, you bitch, about the gang you were involved in being fucking buddies with Ivan Braginski."

Sadiq looked thoroughly confused, and was about to interject when Elisaveta beat him to it.

"Hey!" She shouted, none of earlier playfulness in her voice, "Don't call me a bitch, and…yes, I did know, but I didn't think you'd really want to know that!"

"You could've at least fucking mentioned it," Gilbert snarled.

"But why? What would it actually have accomplished?" She asked, exasperated.

Gilbert completely ignored her question, "Did you know him personally, Liz?" he said scathingly.

"No! I've never met him! Gilbert, you're really overreacting about this."

"But your_ fucking_ gang _fucking_ supplied him, all those _fucking_ years. You were helping him; you were helping the guy who made very day of my life a living hell. Fuck. You."

Sadiq was starting to look slightly worried as Gilbert stood up angrily.

"Gil, I'm sorry," Elisaveta said, tears building up in her eyes, "I didn't know it would upset you so much, I just didn't want to bring him up, because I know you don't like talking about it."

"But I've been getting better," Gilbert said, feeling the anger rising in his body more and more with every word, "And you've just been hiding that from me all this time. I trusted you Liz, I loved you and all this time you're just cosying up to me so that I won't know the fact that you fucking helped the guy who did all this shit to me."

The tears were streaming down her face now, "No, Gilbert, it's not like that; I never even really knew he was before, and a lot of things have changed since then. If I'd known that he was hurting you, then I never would have let any money go his way, I promise."

"It doesn't really mean much now, does it?" Gilbert sneered, storming towards the door. Elisaveta jumped out of her chair and ran after him. "Don't follow me!" Shouting at her so loud that she flinched. Her pained expression made him feel bad for a second, but only a second, and then his rage returned, "You just stay here and talk to your little friend, and don't ever try to fucking contact me again."

He stormed out the café, slamming the door shut as he did so. He almost headed back towards the car park, before remembering that he had come in Elisaveta's car. Cursing, he turned and started walking. He knew the way; he had done it countless amounts of times, but it would extremely tiring in his current health.

After a few minutes of walking through the small village that bordered the coast, Gilbert felt the anger inside of him calming, and felt like a bit of an idiot for making such a scene in a café…although it certainly wasn't the first time he supposed.

He put his head in his hands, stifling a scream. Everything was just so confusing, memories and feelings were all getting mixed up in his head; he tried to think of something that would help him, and his thoughts settled on Emilie; Francis's little sister. He tried to think what she had said had helped her. It was Vicky, her partner.

If anything, that made Gilbert feel even worse.

He had no one like that, especially not now. He glanced upwards a noticed a little shop opposite the road. Something else Emilie said swam to the front of his mind 'I always get stressed, and smoking helps me relax.' He frowned. Smoking wasn't really something that had ever appealed to him; he had tried it as a teenager, but hadn't liked it at all, Francis had laughed, and called him a pansy. But what if it did help?

Slowly, he got up and made his way into the shop. He had never bought cigarettes before, so it felt kind of strange going to the man at the counter and having no clue what to say when he asked him which type he wanted. He asked for a lighter too, and the man just rolled his eyes and directed him to one of the few aisles. After another couple of minutes of embarrassment, Gilbert sat back down on his bench, and clumsily opened the little box that displayed a sign saying 'SMOKING KILLS' on the front. Cheery.

He balanced it in his mouth and, after a few seconds of mentally telling himself that he wasn't going to die from one cigarette, lit it.

He could kind of see what Emilie meant; taking the short drags from the cigarette was weirdly therapeutic, and Gilbert felt a small sense of peace fall over him. But he couldn't stay there forever, peaceful, on his little village bench, he needed to get home.

He stood up and threw the butt into a bin before heading back in the direction of his town.

It felt like a lifetime of walking before he finally reached the outskirts, and he was extremely relieved to see the looming houses. Not too far to go now.

He carried on slowly dragging himself along for a couple more minutes before he realised which neighbourhood he was in and felt a mixture of warmth and sadness fill him. He was only a minute or so walk away from Roderich and Elisaveta's house, but if Elisaveta was already home, he wasn't really that keen on popping in. But walking past wouldn't hurt, would it?

Another minute passed. The house came into view. As did Roderich's car. But Elisaveta's was no where to be seen.

Gilbert stood there for a little while, contemplating whether he should go inside or not. He pulled another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it as he thought; eventually deciding that seeing Roderich might help.

He walked up the (stupidly long) driveway and wrapped his hand on the door. He wanted to shout some obnoxious comment through to get him to come faster, but what had happened in the café was still plaguing his mind.

He heard the click of the lock, and the smooth drag of the door over carpet, as Roderich opened it. Gilbert lifted his hand up in greeting, but Roderich simply frowned back and pulled the cigarette from Gilbert's mouth, looking slightly disgusted, "You shouldn't smoke," he said abhorrently, "It's bad for you."

"Really, is it? Dude, you'll win the Nobel prize for Chemistry with that statement."

Roderich huffed, and turned inside, "Why are you here, anyway?" He asked as he walked towards the kitchen.

Gilbert closed the door and followed him, "I, um, I guess I just wanted to talk," Gilbert said, hearing his voice crack slightly.

Roderich spun round, his annoyed attitude disappearing, "Is...is everything all right?"

The fight with Elisaveta came back to the front of his mind as he shook his head, unable to get any words out. He kept trying to speak, but his voice felt heavy, and his mind was starting to spin; he crashed to the floor, his knees jarring as his whole body weight fell upon them. Images flashed through his head and his vision went black. He wasn't wasn't aware if he had closed his eyes or not; all he was aware of was pain, was the familiar of helplessness, of wanting to die. Hundreds upon hundreds of unwanted memories were filling his mind until he was screaming. They carried on, and on, and on until all he could picture in his mind was Elisaveta's face, her beautiful features distorted, she looked more like Natalia; cruel, demeaning.

He heard Roderich's voice, so faint, and so far away from the loud accusations and cries in his head. He had no idea if Roderich's voice was fabricated or real. He reached out into the darkness, clumsily grasping until he found something solid. Something real.

Finally, he opened his eyes and looked down at his clutched fist, holding tightly onto Roderich's jacket. His eyes were wide, afraid.

Gilbert tried to tell him what was wrong, tell him that everything had just gotten so much worse, but still no sound came out of his mouth.

Roderich cautiously lifted a hand to caress his face. Gilbert sobbed and fell into him, clutching him so desperately, trying to convey how how much he needed him, how much he needed someone he could trust.

He felt Roderich's small hands wrap comfortingly around his back, protecting him.

"Save me," Gilbert whimpered. He didn't really know exactly what he meant, he just knew he needed saving. Maybe from Ivan, mabe from himself, maybe from everything.

But whatever he really meant, Roderich seemed to understand what he needed, "I will," he promised, "Always."

**I just want to accent that I'm not trying to promote smoking, this fanfiction isn't supposed to be bunnies and roses, bad stuff happens, and not all the characters are perfect, they make bad choices.**

**And I hope all of you beautiful people had a wonderful Christmas! (If you celebrate Christmas, of course! Otherwise, I hope you're having a good time with whatever your celebrating C:)**


	23. Chapter 23: Choices

**A/N: Hello! It's been a while, huh? The last year's been pretty tricky for me health-wise so fanfiction hasn't been my top priority, but I promised you all I wouldn't abandon it, and although I'll admit I've considered it, your ongoing support and reviews have made sure I've kept to that.**

**Apologies if my writing has become truly awful, but I hope this makes up at least partly for my long absence.**

It was a good half an hour before Roderich had managed to calm Gilbert down and another five minutes before he successfully got him into the living room. He tried to direct Gilbert towards a chair, but he simply sat himself down on the carpet, his back leaning against the sofa. "I'll make drinks," Roderich said, his hand lightly brushing the top of Gilberts head as he left the room.

Gilbert watched him leave, then pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging them tightly. It had been his sole source of comfort for many years, and old habits died hard. "Why is it," he thought aloud, not really caring whether Roderich could hear him or not, "That every time something good happens to me, I find out that I can't actually trust the person who made me happy."

The faint whistle of the kettle boiling reached Gilbert's ears as Roderich walked briefly out of the kitchen. He opened his mouth to speak, but seem to think better of it, sighed and walked back into the kitchen. Gilbert heard metal clinking against mugs and Roderich returned. He passed a mug down to Gilbert and went to sit on the sofa, but then paused, huffed slightly, and put a plump cushion on the floor near to where Gilbert was sitting, carefully positioning himself on it.

"Is this something to do with Elisaveta?" He sighed, he sounded exhausted, older than his years as he continued, "She called a little while back…She sounded rather upset, and I know she was out with you."

Gilbert frowned as he searched for the words; now that he had calmed down, his anger had faded, and he was starting to feel a little guilty. He quickly pushed that thought aside and muttered, "Kind of," it struck him now how tired his own voice sounded, but he supposed it must have been like that for a long time now, "But she's not the first person who's done that," he grimaced, "There was a woman…when I was with Ivan."

Roderich raised his eyebrows, "A woman?"

"It's not what you think," Gilbert said, subconsciously rubbing the back of his neck, "We weren't fucking or anything. She, er…she was more of a mother I guess," he mumbled, "She was Ivan's sister, but she used to look after me, patch up my wounds and cook for me and stuff. And she taught me Russian too. But, er, Ivan," he spat the word out like it was disease, it always tasted vile in his mouth, "he found out how close we'd gotten and I don't know how he did it; maybe he threatened her, or maybe she was just such a fucking push over that she did it just because he told her to, but she stopped talking to me. I hardly even saw her after that."

Roderich hesitated before asking, "Was there anyone else?"

Gilbert shrugged. He wished there had been, every day. Every time Ivan was out, a small part of him hoped that someone would find him there, and maybe they'd take him away, or maybe they'd just stay with him for a bit. Someone who didn't want to hurt him. There was the girl across the road, he supposed, the girl who played the violin, but he didn't even know her name. "There was Toris, I guess, but I can kind of understand why he…why he did what he did."

Roderich looked at him thoughtfully before returning to his original subject, "So what happened with Elisaveta? Was it something to do with her ties to the Braginskis?"

Gilbert felt his stomach fall about a kilometre, "_You know about that?" _he said, trying to remain calm but hearing quite clearly the malevolent hiss in his voice, _"And you didn't think to tell me?" _What the hell had he expected? No one actually gave a shit about him; maybe they were all fucking in on it. But as he looked at Roderich, trying not to punch him in his goddamn smug face, his head seemed to be screaming at him to give Roderich a chance, if only because he was one of the only hopes he had left.

"Is this why you're mad at Elisaveta?" Roderich asked, exasperated, "Really? Don't you understand that she didn't want to bring it up because she knew it would upset you?"

"Then maybe she shouldn't have gotten involved in the fucking gang in the first place," Gilbert snarled in retort.

Roderich slammed his mug onto the carpet as he replied in possibly the haughtiest voice Gilbert had ever heard, "Everyone makes mistakes, Gilbert! And she didn't know what kind of people she was supporting."

"I know!" Gilbert cried, and he did, truly, but the other thoughts wouldn't go away, the ones that told him she had done it on purpose, but how could she have? "I know! And I'm trying to tell myself that but I _can't. _My mind just keeps reminding me that she has something to do with Ivan, and that's painful." He dropped his mug and curled his hands into fists, trying desperately to retreat into himself, "I'm sorry," he choked out, trying not to burst into tears and feeling the still hot coffee burning his legs, "I'm sorry."

He felt the mug being lifter up and his right hand enveloped by a more comfortable warmth than the heat on his legs as Roderich closed his own hand round it, "It's okay," he said, sounding considerably less haughty than he had only a few moments ago, "I'll talk with Liz, but please don't get too mad at her, I know why it hurts you, but you know she would never willingly help someone out who wanted to hurt you."

Gilbert nodded and leaned forward so that his forehead was resting ever so slightly on Roderich's. Roderich smiled weakly, "Come on," he said, "We need to get that coffee cleaned up"

"Not right now," Gilbert mumbled. He was happy where he was. Moving would mean cold. Moving would mean being alone.

" Doesn't it hurt?"

"No," he lied. It didn't hurt too much any more, in fairness, it just sort of stung. Ivan had done worse.

"But you really sho-"

"I'm fine," Gilbert insisted, unclenching his fist and threading his fingers through Roderich's, "Just stay here for a bit," he said, his head falling against Roderich's shoulder. Roderich let go of his hand and wound his arms around Gilbert. A sense of safety engulfed him, here with Roderich he felt invincible; it felt like the childhood days he had spent with him, when all of his cares of family troubles and homework seemed non-existant for a few precious hours. And while his problems were somewhat bigger than late homework these days, there was still something about being with Roderich that made everything seem just a little bit more manageable, that made everything seem, for a fleeting moment, okay.

Gilbert nuzzled into Roderich's neck, taking in the warm familiar smells of resin and vanilla and coffee. It took Gilbert back to afternoons alone playing the violin, badly at first, and bunking off school when Roderich had a day off, to distract him from his incessant baking. "As long as you're here," he admitted, "I'm fine."

Roderich breath hitched slightly. It was faint, but Gilbert was close enough to hear it. Something was wrong. His stomach twisted as he pulled away, "What?" he asked, not overly keen to actually hear the answer.

The atmosphere in the room, which had seemed so warm and welcoming before, had become tense and excruciating as Roderich stared uncomfortably down at his hands. He seemed to be looking for what to say. "We…won't always be here."

Gilbert frowned, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Roderich didn't look up as he said, far too softly, so it was almost a whisper "Elisaveta and I are moving."

"Moving?" Gilbert breathed, "And you didn't think to tell me that either? Do you two keep _everything _from me?"

"What are you talking about?" Roderich huffed defensively.

_Are you kidding me? _He thought, but chose to not patronise him, trying instead to swallow back his anger as he said, "Was this another goddamn ploy to 'protect' me?"

He wanted to scream at Roderich that he didn't need protecting, that he could look after himself just fine, but he wasn;t sure how true that was.

"As a matter of fact it was," Roderich replied, bristling, " You've hardly been in a healthy mental state for the past few months, and you seemed so happy to be with Elisaveta when you saw her again; we weren't exactly going to go out of way to make that worse."

Gilbert scowled, "Well congratulations, princess, your plan worked a treat." He pulled himself off the ground and started towards the door. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Roderich scrambling up after him, looking considerably less graceful than usual. "Wait," he called.

Gilbert spun round and glared at him, seeing Roderich's face falter slightly, "What do you want?" He tried to sound angry, but the question came out more like a choked sob.

"We only wanted to help," Roderich said simply.

This time Gilbert managed to put the anger he wanted into his retort, "Oh yeah?" he spat, "You wanted to help? Well where the _fuck _were you when it was happening? When I actually fucking needed help?"

He slammed the door as he stormed out.

He regretted saying it more and more with every step away from the house, but he wasn't about to go back and beg for forgiveness. But dear lord he felt terrible; he never wanted to put that look on Roderich's face. He had looked wounded, he had looked horrified, and worse still, he had looked _guilty. _But Gilbert was sick to death of people hiding everything from him. He had been treated as less than human for eight goddamn years. And for once, he wanted people to treat him as an equal, as if he was worth something. And besides, having the upper-hand, being in control of a situation, that was liberating.

That thought made him feel sick. He really was turning into Ivan.

He pulled a cigarette out of the box in his back pocket and lit it, trying to blot the image of Roderich's hurt face out of his mind for the rest of the journey home.

That didn't go so well.

* * *

><p>Francis raised his eyebrows as Gilbert skulked through the door, "I see you are picking up 'abits from my sister," he said, gesturing to the cigarette hanging out of his friend's mouth.<p>

Gilbert didn't even so much as grunt as he stared blankly back at him. Francis got the distinct impression that Gilbert's outing with Elisaveta hadn't gone quite to plan.

He tried again, "Did you walk all ze way 'ere with a coffee stain on your trousers?"

Gilbert looked down at that, swore loudly, and started heading up the stairs, presumably to get changed. But Francis wasn't done, he still wanted to know what had gone wrong, "I'll get it out of you, you know!" He shouted up at Gilbert, "You can't stay quiet forever!"

Gilbert stuck his middle finger up at him before slamming the door to his room. Francis didn't even wait a minute before storming up after him. He opened the door to find Gilbert's jeans pooled on the floor, and Gilbert himself lying on his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He recoiled slightly. He always hated seeing Gilbert's wounds. It had been a few months since he had come home now, but some of those scars were never going to fade, and Francis hated them. More than that, he hated himself, for not thinking that something might be wrong; Gilbert had always talked about moving somewhere else, about getting out of this godforsaken town, so when he upped and left Francis assume he had just finally had enough. He wished he hadn't been so stupid.

He went over to the bed and sat down, hoping he could stop Gilbert spending even more weeks lying in bed, doing nothing. He tried his best to keep any frustration out of his voice, "I thought it was _me_ who was avoiding _you_," he said, hoping that Gilbert might actually have something to say to that.

Gilbert simply huffed into the pillow.

Francis was losing patience, but he knew that getting angry with Gilbert would solve nothing. He sat silently for a few moments before carefully saying, "Do you remember when we 'ad that big falling out when we were sixteen?"

Gilbert turned his face just enough so that Francis could see one eye staring at him disbelievingly, "What the hell has this got to do with anything?" he grumbled.

Francis sighed; he knew this would be difficult. "Just 'ear me out, okay?"

Gilbert stared at him suspiciously with one eye for a few seconds, before easing himself up until he was sitting cross legged and looking at Francis with both of those blood red eyes. "I remember," he said as he pushed his hand through his hair, "We were caught spray-painting, and you legged it so that Antonio and I got all the blame."

Francis laughed, he had hoped that maybe Gilbert hadn't remembered all the details, but he supposed there wasn't much else to do all those years, "Yes, I'm sorry about zat. Anyway, zat's not important; it's what 'appened after."

Gilbert shrugged, "We were cautioned, and-"

"Non," Francis interrupted, "After that."

Gilbert looked confused, "I don't really remember what happened then, was it important?"

"Sort of. You were mad at me because I ran away, I was mad at you because I thought it was your idea in ze first place so I didn't deserve the blame, and we were both too stubborn to actually talk to each other about it for weeks."

Gilbert smiled as he looked down. Francis felt a small sense of achievement; he was getting somewhere. "It wasn't until Antonio rang me and told him to meet 'im at our favourite chip shop, and then rang you and told you the same so we sort of had to talk zat we laughed it off and made up."

"I still don't know what this has got to do with anything, Francis," Gilbert said, looking back at Francis's face. It hurt him to see Gilbert look so defeated, and he wished that fleeting smile on his face had stayed just a bit longer.

"Whatever 'appened between you and Elisaveta, you're both so stubborn zat it would take a zird party stepping in until you actually talked to each other again,. So being ze wonderful gentleman zat I am, I am filling zat role quickly before zings turn sour. Now get off you arse and go talk to 'er."

Gilbert leaned against the wall before he replied, "Look I know you mean well, and you're probably the only person who actually does, but it's kind of a bit more complicated than that."

Francis tried to stay calm but sometimes Gilbert really needed to actually look at what he did, "If you 'ad actually told me what went wrong with Liz, zen maybe I could 'ave helped more!"

Gilbert looked blank for a second, and then burst out laughing. Part of Francis was happy to see Gilbert happy again, but part of him was ever so slightly offended, "What?" He bristled.

Gilbert laughed for what felt like forever before answering, "You're as bad as Roderich sometimes. You get so _uppity._"

Francis smiled, the tension draining away, this felt like the old Gilbert, and that felt so good, "Well as long as you don't start 'itting on my significant other if I ever get one."

Gilbert threw him a sarcastic look but sat up a little straighter, "I'll talk to her okay…just not right this second."

"Gilbert, if you leave it I swear I-"

"Not because I'm avoiding her, you idiot, I'm just friggin' exhausted."

Francis smiled, "Okay, you've got a week, young man, before I march over to zere 'ouse myself."

* * *

><p>There were voices, he knew, but he couldn't place them, he wasn't even sure if he was still dreaming or not. He tried to focus on the voices, but he was so tired, his brain was screaming at him to go to sleep again, maybe never wake up…<p>

Then there was cold. Consuming, destroying, _wet _cold. Oh god. He was drowning, he had to be, there was no other explanation. He was back at that godforsaken house and he was drowning.

Gilbert opened his eyes and sat up. Gasping, he flung his head round, and was confused to see his room and Francis and Antonio's. The drowning must have been a dream, but he could still feel water running down his face as his eyes adjusted and Francis and Antonio stood over him, Antonio with a bucket in his hand.

"Sorry, man," he said, "You weren't waking up"

Gilbert stared at the bucket. It was empty now. _It was just to wake me up _he told himself, but he still felt himself reach out and grab the bucket and throw it to the other side of the room before breaking out into sobs.

He heard the voices again, Francis and Antonio's, he knew now, but he still wasn't sure what they were saying. He felt the mattress sink slightly as one of them, or maybe it was both of them, sat on it. He looked up to see Antonio looking worriedly at him, "Are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" he gasped.

Antonio frowned and then shook his head apologetically, "Sorry, I didn't realise that it would, er, upset you so much."

"It's okay," Gilbert waved him off. It wasn't okay, but he didn't have the energy to get into another argument, "Just don't do that again, yeah?"

He looked up a bit more, and saw them both exchange a slightly guilty look, "Sorry," Francis echoed, "We just wanted to get you up 'cause we figured you needed a bit of time out the house that didn't end disastrously."

Gilbert glanced out the window, it was starting to get dark, but he supposed going out with friends for the evening wasn't so bad, "Fine, just gimme a minute to get dressed, okay?"

It took a lot longer than a minute, but eventually they were all bustling out the house in their coats. It was even chillier than it had been in the morning. Gilbert hoped summer would hurry up and get its arse over to England already. He was sick of the cold.

He sat in the back of Antonio's car. He preferred that; it gave him more space, and it made him feel like a kid again. He watched the streets out the window; he didn't really see many people until they got to town, where he couldn't help noticing there were a heck of a lot of people. It made him uneasy, but at least he wouldn't be too noticeable.

Despite the cold, the fresh air was a welcome break after the stuffy car. He still hated cars.

"So," Francis said, as he blew a blonde lock out of his face, "Anywhere in particular you'd like to go?"

Gilbert shrugged, "You're the chef, where's a good place to go eat?"

It was Antonio who spoke up though, "There's a nice Italian nearby that Lovi and I like, it ain't too expensive either."

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "I swear your whole life revolves around Lovino. Is it near?"

"Yeah, just a ten minute walk in that sorta direction." He waved his hand vaguely down a street bustling with late night shoppers and other friends and family going out to eat. Gilbert looked over to Francis to see what he thought, and after getting a nod of confirmation, they all started heading towards it as Antonio told them about his day. Gilbert wasn't really listening though, he was too busy watching everyone around him; he wondered how many of them he had been at school with, and how many of them would hurt him given the chance. It was an irrational thought, he knew, but it didn't stop him thinking it.

Someone bumped into him, and he almost cried out, but it was just a teenage girl with some friends. She giggled at the look on his face. He sighed, cursed inwardly and carried on, trying his best to calm his nerves. _None of these people want to hurt you _he chanted to himself, desperate to make himself believe it.

But then that belief was crushed into dust as he saw a tall, familiar man. Ivan. It had to be, or was he just seeing things? He hadn't really looked at him properly, maybe he had just made a mistake, but he dare not looked again. Instead, he grabbed Francis's arm to get his attention and gave him a panicked look. Francis seemed to understand as Gilbert felt himself being guided away from the crowds, and when he next became aware of where he was the crowds were gone and it was warm. His head was in his hands, and as he lifted it he saw first the worried faces of his best friends and then…racks of shoes. The confusion must have shown on his face because Francis laughed softly and explained, "We figured you needed to sit down, and zeir was a clothes shop with a shoes section, so we thought it'd do."

"Right," Gilbert breathed, "Thanks. Sorry." He checked around out of habit, but in a women's shoes section there was thankfully a very low amount of men, especially so late in the day. The only guys besides himself were Francis and Antonio, who still hadn't taken their eyes of him, "What happened?" Antonio asked, "You just sorta freaked."

Gilbert felt a queer sort of twisting in his gut, and realised he felt _ashamed._ Would he always act up like that in crowds? He didn't want to end up making a fool of himself every time he went out, and he definitely didn't want to start seeing Ivan everywhere when he was awake. His nights were bad enough. "I just thought I saw…" but the name wouldn't come out, so he just waved his hand slightly and hoped his friends got the hint.

Francis straightened up, "So much for not ending disastrously, non?" he said, smiling slightly.

Gilbert grinned up at him, "Maybe another time, yeah?" He didn't know how true that was, mind, but he hoped that crowds wouldn't always be a problem, because he still had a lot of years ahead of him unless something even more awful than Ivan happened.

They were all quiet on the way back, but Gilbert knew that they started talking about him the moment he got in and ran up the stairs to his room. He found that he didn't mind so much any more though. If he was in their position, he would probably talk about him a lot too. He wondered what they were saying, whether they were planning to kick him out, or admit him to some sort of institution, or maybe they would just avoid him. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.

Gilbert took the liberty of the whole week that Francis had given him before announcing that he was going to talk to Elisaveta and try to sort things out. It had at least given him time to clear his head and calm down. A part of him still told him that this was stupid, that is wasn't even worth trying; they were going away soon, and Gilbert didn't even know where to, and surely it could only end badly.

Yet somehow his feet found his way to that bloody long driveway up to their house, and his hand found that fucking bell and then he was holding his breath and considering running when the door opened.

And a young blonde girl opened the door.

Shit.

He had the wrong house.

Or so he thought for a long excruciating moment before Elisaveta's voice rang out, "Lily? Lily, who is it?"

The girl, Lily, looked up at him, expectantly, but Gilbert found that his mouth had gone dry and he ended up just stammering. The girl looked a little frightened and turned her head slightly, with her eyes still fixed on his, "It's a man with white hair?" she said, in a voice so small Gilbert doubted Elisaveta caught a word of it, "Sort of tall, with red eyes?"

"Let him in!" Elisaveta called down, and Gilbert felt himself relax slightly. She didn't sound angry. That was a good start.

Lily led the way up stairs, her tiny feet seemingly bouncing off the steps, and she was a little hesitant as she turned into the master bedroom. Gilbert soon realised why. "Oh" was all he could manage to say as Elisaveta smiled at him.

Her hair was down, and she hadn't done her make-up, but Elisaveta still looked every inch a bride in her wedding dress. Unsurprisingly, it was a traditional gown, floor length with huge skirts, and small roses embroidered around the front of her bodice. Elisaveta grinned, "I hope Roderich sounds a little more impressed on the day," she teased.

Gilbert flushed, "No, you look great, I just, er, didn't expect it."

A few of the small buttons on the back of Elisaveta's dress were still undone, he imagined Lily was doing them up when he arrived, and he found himself asking whether she wanted him to finish them for her.

The smile she gave him made him wish that she was wearing that dress for him, so before he did anything stupid he started focusing intently on the buttons. His hands were shaking, and he was sure Lily would have done it much faster, but Elisaveta was patient with him. "I'm surprised you didn't make Roderich wear the dress," he said as he fiddled with the loop the button was somehow supposed to go through.

"I considered it," she admitted, "But I can't imagine my parents would be very impressed."

Gilbert snorted softly and carried on. He had only managed two so far, but he supposed it was better than none. There was a short silence before Elisaveta spoke up again, her voice much softer than before, "Are we okay then?"

He tried to force the last button through the loop. He kept telling himself that he should still be angry, that at least some of the blame fell on her. But that was bullshit, and as Elisaveta's face turned slightly so her hair fell in front of her shoulder, and her profile was outlined by the light streaming through the window, Gilbert found himself wishing that he had come earlier in the week, so they could have just sat down for coffee, and maybe argued a bit, but that was impossible here.

"Yeah," he choked out once he finished doing the dress up, "We're okay."

Elisaveta span round so fast that Gilbert was worried for a second that she was going to fall over, but instead she threw her arms around him and kissed him so forcefully that Gilbert almost fell over himself. He wanted to return it, to keep her there forever, but a startled scream from the other end of the room pulled them a part.

"Liz!" Lily sounded horrified, "I thought you were marrying _Roderich._"

Elisaveta bit her lip, "It's kinda complicated…could you give us a moment?" Lily nodded, paling slightly and ran out the room.

She turned back to Gilbert, "Come with us," she said, the words seemed to be pouring out of her mouth uncontrollably, "Roderich and I have been speaking about it, about you, and we realised things weren't really working out because, well, because we were focusing too much on what we all had before," she let her arms drop down and took Gilbert's hands, "But things have sort of changed haven't they?" Elisaveta gave him no time to respond as she carried on, she seemed to think if she stopped she'd never be able to tell him again, "And that's okay, but maybe we should be focusing on the future, rather than the past, make new memories instead of being so stuck in older ones."

Gilbert took a while to drink it all in, and he saw the worry on Elisaveta's face building, "I… so you want me to go with you? Where?"

Elisaveta's face changed to relief to disbelief, "Roderich didn't even tell you? Dear lord, I'm going to have to have words with him. We're moving to Germany, to Berlin."

The first thought that came to Gilbert's mind was _Ivan wouldn't find you there _and he almost said yes immediately. But then he remembered Francis and Antonio, after everything they had done for him, was he just going to up and leave. And what about his baby brother? He had missed eight years of him already, he wasn't sure he could leave him all over again. And he had always lived here. This town was home and security; moving to a big city like Berlin would mean new people, new places. And crowds. A lot of crowds.

But it would also mean being with Roderich and Elisaveta. Being with people who actually cared about him and wanted to be with him. He would see that smile every day, and listen to Roderich playing his violin on rainy days.

"Let me think about it," he finally said, "Give me a bit of time."

As he left the room quickly so he didn't have to hear Elisaveta's disappointed answer, he glanced at her standing alone in her wedding dress and realised he had probably just thrown any chance of happiness he had into a locked room, and he had no idea where the key was.

**As always, reviews are hugely appreciated, and Happy Holidays to you all! xxx**


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